


Aces

by Sullivain



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 81,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28577493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sullivain/pseuds/Sullivain
Summary: Pretty sure River was overlooked and/or rushed in development, but luv that teddy bear. Picks up midway through "I Fought the Law" and mostly canon with heavy, heavy embellishment and eventual fixer of end-game content.
Relationships: Female V/River Ward
Comments: 157
Kudos: 323





	1. Chapter 1

**19:42 04 Jan 2077**

“So. What are you gonna do now?” V cupped her hand around the end of a cigarette to buffer air filtering through an overhead vent, flicking her lighter. Johnny’s nicotine cravings were too invasive to fight lately; it was easier to just light up and take a few drags to indulge him. The flame took and she inhaled deeply before looking over at River as her fingers began to tingle. The cop was leaning against a desk in the 'office' of the Red Queen’s Race and scrolling through the computer. He'd watched the security tape several times to absorb every detail, but if V had to guess, it was also to kick dust over whatever loyalty he felt to his partner and drive home the betrayal. She squashed the impulse to make a joke about Han looking familiar. If River hadn’t seen this coming from a mile off, he was far more naive than she gave him credit for. Of _course_ the badges were in on this. They were pawns in every slimy political scheme in NC and she knew she'd smelled a crooked cop the second she laid eyes on his partner at the Chubby Buffalo.

“I dunno, V. This runs deep. Kinda hard to start a one man crusade against all of the NCPD.”

“One man, one merc,” she corrected, filtering smoke out of her nose. She wasn't a smoker, not until Johnny. Now she partook with vigor even if it made her want to compulsively brush her teeth.

He straightened and gave a mirthless chuckle. “Your help would be too expensive.”

“Please. I kill cops pro bono.” She felt another malfunction coming on- had felt it brewing for hours, actually- but managed to push past the static and keep her head in the game until that spiked fucking BD threw her into a tailspin. It was a stroke of luck that he'd come looking for her and was able to rip the device off her head before she met the same fate as the mayor. Now that adrenaline wasn’t bolstering her focus, she knew it was only a matter of minutes until she started hacking up blood. She rubbed her temple with her thumb, meeting River’s gaze. In the corner of the room, Johnny glitched into visibility and peered at her over the rim of his aviators. 

“You don’t look so hot,” Silverhand commented, verbalizing the look on the cop’s face. “Might wanna blow this joint before you short circuit in front of the-”

“I gotta go talk to Han, try and figure out who gave him that order,” River said. The blue indicator light in his good eye ebbed as he finished setting up the rendezvous. “Ride with me?”

Johnny was shaking his head, but V responded with a casual, “sure, why not” and took a final drag of the cig before flicking it through Johnny. She was really beginning to delight in pissing him off. 

V seized up halfway down the first flight of stairs. The pain was blinding and white-hot, so intense that it made her nauseated, like someone was sucking her brain through a straw out the bottom of her skull. Optics flickered and joints locked. She clutched the railing and tried, but failed to remain upright. Her knees met the metal landing _hard_ and she bit back a curse the best she could. Everything was light and sound until it suddenly wasn't.

River filled her field of vision when her Kiroshis came back online. He didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, so they hovered over her shoulders- not touching- waiting for her to respond to his questions. The sustained, flat note in her ears swallowed up everything he said. She leveraged her weight against the railing with one arm and scrubbed her face with the other. The back of her hand came away smeared with blood.

“Like… being hit with the… mother of all flashbangs,” she managed through grit teeth. She tried to rise from where she knelt, but was weak as a kitten. Wrong place, wrong time for this nonsense. She pushed off the railing and got one leg under her before the crushing pressure in her head forced it to buckle.

“Dumbass. I told you to delta,” Johnny growled. Of course she could hear _him_ \- he was inside her head. “He wants to carry you out like some damsel. Tell him to fuck off.”

_You can read lips?_

“This a discussion you want to have right now?”

V set her jaw like a petulant child and nodded once at the cop, who carefully shrugged her over his shoulder as if she didn't weigh a damn thing. Silverhand protested in vain as River fireman-carried her down the stairs, out into the night. She was angry, desperately so. Johnny knew that. He could feel it in the tension of their - _her_ \- body, in how she ground her teeth at night and tossed and turned; she dreamed of violence and helplessness, of the Bakkers and Jackie, before waking up in a cold sweat. She’d gotten a truly shit deal out of her choom’s harebrained scheme and delusions of fame and yet she missed him with a fierceness that she kept tucked behind every defense she could throw at him.

Jackie was _her_ friend, _her_ memory to cherish, and that was a hard boundary that Johnny knew not to cross. She might scratch his itch with a bullet if he tried. He followed them out and raked a hand through his hair in frustration. The cop was easing V into the passenger seat of his Thorton and began to rifle through the glove compartment for pain meds that he muttered he could have sworn he’d thrown in there.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly, and when that didn’t stop him, she gave him a nudge. “River! I’m good. It’s passed.” 

He withdrew to get a good look at her, folding his arms and hitching a boot up on the tire. “You need to get to a ripperdoc? Never seen a virus behave like that.”

V sighed, “It wasn’t the BD. I’m fine, there’s nothing a doc could do.”

“That doesn’t sound promising.”

She granted him an amiable shrug. It _wasn’t_ promising, but she wasn’t about to spill her guts to a man she’d just met. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

He eyed her with a frown before finally relenting, “Yeah. Alright, watch your foot.” She crossed her legs, allowing him to shut the door, and leaned her head on the glass. It was blessedly cool against her hot forehead and Johnny was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’d lay low for a while if she palled around with River enough.  
  
“Thanks,” she told him as he settled into the driver’s seat. She was staring out the window with a bloody knuckle to her lips, profile partially obstructed by the fall of her silvery hair. There was no indication she’d been writhing in pain just minutes before. V was collected and calm, all studded leather and tattoos and sharp white eyes when she turned her head. The rumor mill had been right about one thing: she was easy to look at. As for the rest… she hadn’t proven to be a bloodthirsty clout chaser just yet, even if she had the chrome for it.

“No problem.” 

She smiled, a flash of platinum, and sat back to watch the skyline pass. The ringing in her ears had mostly subsided, but her head still throbbed like she was coming off a bender.

Han’s meeting spot at the restaurant wasn’t far and he was waiting when they pulled up. River parked and killed the engine.

“Hey,” he said, getting her attention. “Let me do the talking.”

“By all means.”

She took her time getting out of the truck and scuffed her boots on the concrete as she walked up to the badges mid discussion. Han gave her a once-over before asking River why he was still hanging out with ‘this punk’, then launched headfirst into a monologue about how the precinct was family and ‘you don’t turn your back on family, right, nomad?’ Drawing parallels between cops and Bakkers wouldn’t fly on V’s watch. She wanted to knock her fist through his teeth.

“Bullshit, Han. My family had integrity and honor,” she said, fishing another cigarette from her pocket. She lit up quick and hissed smoke in his face. “You’re just a crooked piece of shit.” 

“Thanks for the backup, V, but I got this,” River interjected. She narrowed her eyes at him, but stalked off as requested. Cops were great at bickering with other cops over the finer points of piggery while the city progressively dipped further into chaos, and her opinion clearly wasn’t solicited. Even so, she was… _pleased?_ that River had conviction enough to call out double-dealing. He threatened Han with an audit through IA and the old bastard responded by telling River to go home and get a good night’s sleep. 

She glanced back, flicking ash. Han's tires chirped as he pulled away and River looked _pissed_. He caught her staring and approached, grumbling the whole time. “I’ve gotta turn him in.” He leaned on the ledge beside her. He smelled like leather and coffee and her optics were reading elevated cortisol. 

“River.”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“Remind me what they say about snitches?”

He groaned, “Not you, too.”

V clapped him on the forearm while pulling up Liz Peralez’s number. “Not tryna talk you out of anything- just reminding you why there aren’t any good cops left. Watch your back.” It was her own special brand of telling him to be careful.

“Sure, V… Thanks for all your help.”

“I’ll be in touch. Still owe you one for unhooking me from that BD,” she winked up at him before striding off to connect the call. 

Her Arch was still in the parking lot and River watched as she kicked a leg over it, clearly absorbed in conversation. There wasn’t a trace of vulnerability left in the merc’s cool, detached demeanor. He looked down at his hands. At least he’d established a contact that could pull his ass out of the fire if this went south. What was more, he _liked_ the easygoing edgerunner, even if it felt like she was hiding something. Her nomadic background must’ve instilled in her traits foreign to Night City- traits that he valued. River mulled it over until she tore out of the parking lot and then rolled his shoulders, tension releasing from his neck with a crack. Time to face the music. 


	2. Chapter 2

**09:15 07 Jan 2077**

  
V was roused from sleep by her chirping holo. She rolled over in bed, dragging blankets and her cat with her. Nibbles protested by digging his claws into her foot and she connected the call while growling a colorful string of expletives. 

“Everything good, V?” It was River. Of  _ course _ it was River. He'd gone dark suddenly during a text exchange the previous day and she figured he'd just gotten busy.

She swept Nibbles into the crook of one arm. “Yeah, just. Fucking cat got me.”

“Cat?” He sounded surprised. She authorized video and thrust the animal in front of her face, which made him laugh, “Where did you find a cat?”

“It found me, actually. What’s up?” Nibbles crawled out of her grasp and high-tailed it across the room, disappearing into her weapons closet. She dragged a hand through her hair to move it out of her eyes. It wasn’t surprising that she looked like shit, having fallen into her pillows with a face full of makeup and a belly full of liquor with the TV running in the background. Luckily, she’d at least been wearing a shirt. 

River cleared his throat. “I was actually hoping you’d be up for making good on that favor.”

“Cops need killin’?” She sat up, looking around for her boots. The only pair in her line of sight were Johnny’s. He crossed his arms, leaning against her computer desk.

“You sound  _ way _ too excited about that,” River observed. “But no, this is a personal favor. I’ll explain it to you off-holo.”

"Just tell me when and where.”

“Flicking you an address. Meet me tonight?”

V ignored Johnny’s audible gag. “Aces.”

“See you.” 

The call dropped and V sucked in a steadying breath before turning her head. “ _ What _ , Johnny.” It wasn’t a question. She groped around in a laundry basket for a fresh set of clothes, thankful that Nibbles was of the hairless variety. He’d deposited a jingly toy in a stack of folded shirts and it was apparent that he’d claimed the basket as his bed.

“Pig’s taken a shine to you,” Johnny said, not even having the decency to look away as she disrobed and padded to the shower. 

“Fuck off,” she called over running water. A shampoo cap clicked open and shut and he could smell the rich lather through her olfactory senses, felt it secondhand as she scrubbed her scalp. It was a trip and a half to experience the rest of her routine, but he particularly enjoyed the part where she ran a washcloth over her chest and then further down her body. He vaguely wondered how women got anything done with all that equipment begging to be touched. V wasn’t the constantly-horny type like he was, maybe. Or, had been. It was tough when those portions of their personalities butted heads. She regularly walked straight past joytoys on Jig Jig street without a second thought. 

He  _ had _ observed how her eyes lingered on the broad lines of the cop’s shoulders, though, even if it had been fleeting and boxed right back into professionalism. At that moment, she was agonizing over whether or not to wear a bra. 

“Don’t,” he encouraged, palming his stubble with a grin as anger radiated from the shower. 

“I’m gonna swallow that whole bottle of pills if you don’t butt out,” she threatened. 

“You’ve got a great rack, V. Shame to keep it all pinned in, especially if you’re fishing for that cop’s attention.” 

She emerged from the bathroom alcove a moment later, ruffling her hair with a towel. Her tits really  _ were _ something else. Snapping her fingers in his face, she asked, “Can’t you find something else to do, you creepy ass cyber ghost?”

Johnny’s gesture was frustrated. “Like what, take up knitting? I’m stuck in your head, remember?”

V slowly and deliberately uncapped the bottle of suppressants and popped a few into her mouth, so desperate to shake him that she chewed for faster absorption. 

“Ugh, that’s bitter,” he complained. She gave his outline a lazy salute as it flickered out. 

River’s text popped up shortly after with the geonav data, titled “Meet Me Here. Please”.

“So polite for a badge,” she muttered. Johnny, of course, didn’t answer. He was packed up in her head nice and tight. She pulled on a cropped top and her studded jacket, shimmying into a pair of leather pants with padded thighs for riding. It was… pure coincidence that she forwent the bra as Johnny suggested.

One last stop by the mirror to apply some eyeliner and she stepped into her boots on her way out the door. She had a payment to collect and a few calls to make before she’d check in on Mama Welles down at the Coyote. Her errands would leave her plenty of time for a bite to eat before meeting River.

**17:48**

_ Shit shit shit _ . 

V was hoofing it with a hot coffee in hand. It was damned unprofessional to be late, but she’d run into Misty after leaving the Coyote and they’d gotten into a discussion about the visual glitches she’d been spotting around the city- evidently, the “invisible hand of the universe” was making itself known to her. She envied Misty’s faith in all this nonsense and entertained it to an extent, but the tarot deck cropping up every time she turned a corner was beginning to get... spooky. 

She thanked that ‘higher power’ for the doc’s fine handiwork, as her legs would normally have gotten tired by now. Parking was a bitch on this side of the city, so Jack’s Arch was tucked away safe from gangoons a few blocks away. She slowed to a jog when she spotted River’s Thorton parked a hundred yards off, and then dropped back into a comfortable walk to catch her breath and finally take a sip of coffee. It was street vendor mud, of course, but she only had a few cigs left and needed the pick-me-up. 

River unlocked the passenger’s side as she approached, which she took as an invitation to slide in. 

“Hey, V,” he greeted her, a little less enthusiastically than she was hoping. She shut the door and turned to face him with a smile that quickly died. The cop was sporting five o’clock shadow and his organic eye looked tired. 

“You alright, Riv?”

He grunted, “Had better days.” He looked her over. “Escaped the cat with all your limbs, I see.”

His joke fell flat, but she politely quirked the corner of her mouth. “Miraculously. That what happened to your hand?”

He laughed, just one chuckle. “Nah, lost that as a beat cop. I’ll tell you all about it sometime if you wanna hear the gory details, but… right now I’ve got something I need your help with.”

“Alright, hit me with it.”

His indicator light pulsed blue and she kicked back to watch the transmitted news clip. Some cops apprehended a kidnapper- Peter Pan, they called him- at a traffic stop, and a kid fell out the side door, dead. Apparently from too many stims. She sipped her coffee thoughtfully, trying to piece together what River’s stake in this was. “Ehm, case of yours?”

“No.” He swallowed and broke eye contact to look out his window. “My nephew Randy disappeared not long ago, thought he just ran away. That kid was wearing his shoes.”

Her stomach dropped; his sullen demeanor now made a lot more sense. “Jesus Christ. River, I’m sorry. Is that why you’re not on the case? Too personal?”

His jaw worked when he looked back at her. “More like got a fucking restraining order from it.” 

“But they caught the guy, right? Doesn’t that mean they’ve got leads?”

River shook his head, “He’s in a coma.” He turned the truck on and shifted into drive. Neons shifted behind his profile as they got up to speed and a fine mist of rain deepened the city haze.

V placed her coffee in a cupholder and tapped her fingers on her thigh, thinking. “Have they checked his apartment?”

“It’s a house. Doubt he’s keeping kids in the basement. No, he’s got a second location, and nobody’s got any idea where.” 

_ Fuuuck _ , V thought, but kept her alarm from reaching her expression. River was already full up on panic and didn’t need hers to contend with, too. “So what’s the plan? What can I do?”

The quick glance he gave her was grateful. “He’s being held at a lab having his dreams monitored. It’s new research, but I’m willing to bet it could give us a nudge in the right direction.”

She nodded, catching his drift. “Aaand you want me to break into an NCPD lab and klep whatever info I can get my hands on. That it?”

“Nah, I’m coming with you. I need you to help me find a way in… and then do your braindance editor thing to give us something to work with.” 

She’d been reaching for her coffee when it hit her. “You want to break into a lab full of badges and disseminate classified intel?”

He eyed her briefly. “They’re conducting an audit today. Should be a ghost town.”

V made a noise in affirmative, taking a sip. It was getting cold, so she tipped her head back and chugged the rest. Whatever sweetener the vendor stirred in had coagulated on top and she imagined that drinking motor oil might have been more pleasant. Still, the extra espresso gave it the desired kick and she hadn’t craved a cigarette since taking her meds.

“How’s your head?” River asked.

She fiddled with the cup, considering just how much of an explanation she owed him for shorting out on the last gig. “Better today.” Then, with a sly note, “don’t worry, you’re not gonna have to carry me out of this one… should be awhile before it happens again.” 

“Is it a common occurrence?” 

“Depends. Am I being interrogated?”

River almost looked sheepish. “Sorry. Habit.”   
  
They settled into a tense silence, the weight of the job ahead looming thick in the cab. V had done dumber, riskier shit for eddies. Rescuing River’s nephew from whatever nightmare that sick fuck Peter Pan concocted appealed to her sense of justice. She liked kids, anyway. They were clean slates. Uncorrupted. Back home, she’d helped raise a few in the communal nomad way of passing on hard skills like welding and soldering. That gave them a foundation to work with when they got old enough to pull heists. Thinking about the Bakkers always made her a little nostalgic for sand dunes and wide open skies flecked with stars. Here in NC, flickering billboards were her stars and the only approximation for tumbleweeds was the trash blowing about in alleyways. The heists were still there, though. She had a knack for finding those.

The last bit of sunlight faded behind cloudcover by the time they got to their destination and the streets were almost empty. It seemed that seedier types avoided intersections lined with a crop of NCPD buildings. River parked across from the lab and exited the vehicle with a gruff “C’mon, V” and waited impatiently for her to join him. She walked a few steps behind, not too keen on being mistaken for a cop’s squeeze. That thought came so far out of left field that she considered taking another anti-Johnny pill. A sharp curse from River caught her attention and she looked up in time to see him dodge a passing car.

“You must have a target on your back,” she commented. 

“Traffic’s always bad here.”

“Couldn’t have anything to do with all the badges in the area.” She kept it light with sarcasm, which earned her a squint. 

They breezed right past the glass double-doors of the main entrance and V matched River’s stride to walk beside him. She activated her scanner as they rounded the corner into an alley and took down the cam network with a little remote netrunner magic. Her face was always blurred in security footage, but his might not have been. “Surveillance is down.”

“Slap on the wrist averted,” he murmured. He was looking past her at the fire escape on the back of the building. V followed his eyes and figured the path of least resistance would be the stack of crates pushed up against a dumpster. From there, they could easily hop down into the parking lot. She began to climb, River following close behind. For such a big guy, he was surprisingly stealthy. His boots made less noise than the swish of fabric when he landed behind her.

“Windows on the second level might be our best bet,” she told him, already halfway up the first ladder. River’s intel had been right on the eddies- the building was dark and empty with only one faint heat signature in the lobby. Probably a security guard catching a few winks behind the front desk.

She’d scaled the next set of stairs and began checking windows, waving River over when she found one that was unlocked. It was easy enough for her to squeeze through, but he was a little slower trying to get long limbs to cooperate.

The lab was empty exactly like he’d said it would be. There were no staff in the halls and lights were on dimmers to conserve energy. Idle computers lined each research station. It wasn’t a small place, but V had a leg up with her Kiroshi optics. “I’ll go left, you go right,” she told him before veering off in the direction she’d indicated. 

She opened a few doors and walked past file cabinets, scanner working to superimpose data on top of data. Anthony Harris was the name she was looking for, but nothing matched so far. Back in the hallway, she passed two bathrooms and a janitorial closet. The corridor fed into another and she took it, ducking in and out of exam rooms. 

“Any luck?” she asked River over comms. 

“No. You?”

“Would I be asking if I’d found something?”

He went quiet for a moment. Finally, he played along. “Guess not.”

She’d really have to quit picking on him, even if he was a good sport. His nephew was missing and here she was cracking nervous jokes.  _ Bitch _ , she thought. If she hadn’t banished Johnny with meds, she was sure he’d enthusiastically agree. 

V nudged open a door off the main lab and stopped. There were drawings on the walls over a sloppily made mattress and a line of monitors crowded the corner, really at odds with the arcade games. Sterilized medical equipment was set out on the counter, still sealed. She carefully picked through one of the file cabinets until her scanner found the name she was looking for. 

“Got it! Come here,” she told River, who burst in a moment later. 

For the first time that night, he didn’t look to be on the verge of exhaustion. She pulled open a drawer and began leafing through files, too absorbed to hear the approach of a woman in a labcoat.

“River?” the stranger asked. Her tone quickly changed to anger, “What are you doing here? You were kicked off the force!”

V froze, a manila folder still between her fingertips. Kicked off the force? River? She should have guessed it would happen sooner or later. That’s why there were no good cops- they were either killed or strongarmed out.

“Suspended, actually,” River corrected Labcoat.  
  
“Who are you?” V asked, facing the confrontation. The stranger was standing between her and a missing kid and she’d really hate to blow a brain with a doctorate all over the wall.

The woman turned her head to look at her from behind a pair of goggles with large, illuminated lenses. “Doctor Yawen Packard. What are you doing in my lab?”

“Looking for information,” River intercepted, holding a hand up at V before she could carry out any bright ideas.

“You can’t be here,” the doctor warned, “Leave now and I won’t call the  _ actual _ police.”

“Yawen, listen to me.  _ Please _ . My nephew was abducted by Harris, I’m trying to find him. To do that, we need a lead.” 

V had approached slowly, ready to neutralize the doctor if necessary, but River was making a convincing case- and they seemed to know each other.

“I’m sorry, I really am. But we keep evidence here and follow strict protocol,” Yawen snapped. 

V tried, “We’re talking about saving his nephew’s life. A  _ child’s _ life.”

“This is an ongoing investigation!”

“Yeah, and you know what the police are like. Circlejerking with corpos while the little people suffer.” V darted her eyes to River, “Eh, no offense.” 

He shrugged. As quickly as V let up on him, the doctor mounted an attack, accusing River of always taking, never giving. Whatever the history was there, it wasn’t V’s business and it was wasting time. “He hasn’t let me down yet. We’re… friends.”

Dr. Packard crossed her arms, “That’s what I thought we were. Friends.”

“That why you’re not helping him?”  
  
River chose that moment to break it up, stepping towards the doctor. “Harris’ dream BD- where is it?”

Her shoulders fell a fraction. Defeated, she sighed, “He’s not dreaming.” 

The breath rushed out of River, “What?” 

She turned, beckoning them to follow. Her computer lit up after she tapped in her authorization and River peered over her shoulder as she explained further. “A bullet damaged his cerebral cortex. We’re only getting dissonant urges. Pieces.”

“What about audio-visual stimulation? Like you use with the kids?”

V listened to their discussion, keeping her mouth shut before she could ruin the tentative truce. River’s pitch was solid, but Yawen pointed out that his theory was untested- that Anthony was an adult- and there was no guarantee it would work. Still, it was better than nothing. All they had to do was try and pull Anthony’s consciousness a little closer to the surface through familiarity. The doctor hesitated to commit to the plan, but eventually caved with a caveat that they leave immediately. 

“I know where to start,” River told Yawen. He turned to V, “Let’s ride.” 

She watched him go, hanging back for a moment when she had a thought. This was a doc that studied neuroscience. There probably wasn’t a person more familiar with the inner workings of the brain in Night City. 

“Hey Doc… What do you know about biochips? Hypothetically, an Arasaka relic?” 

Dr. Packard shifted her weight nervously, finding herself alone with a merc. “Well, it’s designed to store a person’s neural engram.” She realized she was speaking in technical terms and quickly sought to dumb it down, “Sorry, uh. Imagine copying over a person’s memories and personality.” 

“Right, I get that. I’m more curious what happens if the stored engram writes over the engrams of the chip carrier.” V caught herself, tacking on another, “Hypothetically.”

“Overwrites?” the doctor’s brow furrowed behind the goggles. “I’m not quite sure that’s possible. Why do you ask?”

V realized she was burning valuable time, “Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Thanks.” 

She hurried after River and followed him out the front door, nearly tripping over a metal floorplate when Johnny appeared. His outline was gauzy and less solid than usual, but he was there, alright. How long had they been in that lab? She reached into her jacket pocket and produced another pill. 

“Can’t keep me gagged forever,” he told her. “You know I was joking when I told you how to get that cop’s attention, right? You don’t really-”

V popped the capsule between her molars, letting the crunching drown out the rest of whatever shitty thing he had to say before continuing after River. 

He was waiting for her in his truck with the engine running. She slid inside and the Thorton started moving before the door was even shut.

“Where we headed?” she asked.

“My sister Joss’ place. Randy’s things have been untouched since he disappeared. Maybe we can shake something loose and get Peter Pan dreaming.” He let out a long, shallow breath and cranked the heat when he noticed V pull her jacket tighter around herself. 

“You think Packard’ll actually help?” 

He smiled at her. “Yeah. Yawen and I go way back. Our spats always end the same way. I’ll tell you about it over a beer sometime.”

V returned his smile with one of her own, “I’d love a beer, but you already promised me the story about how you lost your hand. Don’t overcommit.” 

He chuckled, “Wouldn’t leave you hangin’, V. While we’re at it, you can tell me how a nomad wound up in the worst city in America.” 

“Came here for all the charming conversations with suspended cops,” she said smoothly and caught a flash of teeth in her periphery. He was either grinning or grimacing. 

“Caught that, did ya?”

“Mhmm. Think it might've been pertinent information.”

He ducked his head with an almost meek, “Maybe so.”   
  
“I’m not dunkin’ on you, Riv. I probably would have kept that to myself, too. In fact, I would have gone so far as keeping the entire ‘I’m a cop’ thing off the table.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You hate pigs. Get in line.”

She laughed in front of him for the first time- a raspy, genuine sound- and he stole a look at her warming her hands in front of the vents. When she’d first walked up to him at the diner several days ago, all he’d seen standing in front of him was some merc on a politician’s payroll trying to push his buttons. Attractive, sure, but ultimately there for the eddies. Then she opened her mouth and he realized that she was also smart and had great comedic timing. Never laughed at her own jokes, though. It was really a puzzle how she ended up slinging a piece instead of climbing some corpo ladder.

“Tell me about Randy,” she said, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

River met her eyes briefly. “He’s a… he’s a difficult kid. Lot like his dad. If he can’t find trouble, he’ll make it.” 

“Like his dad,” she repeated. “And what about the old man? Still around?”

He shook his head, “Gang hit a few years back.”

“Mystery solved,” V said, sounding almost sad. “And your sister- Joss?- what’s she like?”

“Made of tougher stuff than me. Guess raising three kids alone’ll do that to you.” 

She looked over at him, “Three kids? So you’ve got two other… nephews? Nieces?”

“Maybe you should have been the cop, V. Who’s doin’ the interrogating now?”

She laughed again. He was on a roll. “Alright, don’t tell me, then.”

“Nah, it’s alright. You’ll probably trip over one of them anyway. A niece and another nephew- Monique and Dorian.”

“I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to get their big brother back,” V said. When several moments passed without a response, she put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed her reassurance. “We _ will _ get him back, River.” 

He exhaled audibly through his nose and brought one of his hands to cover hers. It swallowed it entirely. “I believe you.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**22:50 07 Jan 2077**

  
V had her back against the side of Randy’s trailer and was tapping a pack of cigarettes against her hand when she noticed Joss’ light finally go out. She couldn’t imagine how terrified, how helpless she must be feeling knowing that her oldest son had been abducted by some creep. They’d sat together at the table for a while after River turned in for the night and talked- just talked- Joss spilling to her, a total stranger. She shared memories of scraped knees and lost teeth, trips to the desert, and Randy’s first guitar. 

He sounded like a gentle kid behind all those self-constructed walls. Dark, but tender, leaning into music that resonated with what was going on in his head. The loss of his father had sent him into a spiral, and she couldn't blame him. V’s dad hadn’t been great, but she’d learned how to take shit apart and put it back together while he watched several beers deep. He’d nodded with approval the first time she hotwired a car and drove it back to camp at fifteen. That had been the year he died.

She slid a cigarette out of the pack and placed it between her lips, lighting it with a now well-practiced flick. At least they got what they came for. It was all riding on the doc now. Johnny phased in beside her and at first, she thought he was just there to hang out. But then the ribbing started.

“The hell are you wearing?” he asked.

She looked down at herself, at the huge, soft old flannel that hung off her body like she was a kid-sized hanger. She had it modestly buttoned and it drowned her right down to her knees. River loaned it to her after she told him she’d stay and wait for Packard to get back to them. 

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” 

V coughed on smoke, shooting Johnny an offended look. “What is wrong with you? I’m wearing this to sleep waiting on the _deets for our missing kid_.” 

“Left the pills at home, huh?”

She clenched her teeth. “You want this cig or not?” 

Johnny raised his hands in acquiescence, “Alright. Best behavior. But only if you have another.” 

“For the rest of the night.”

“Deal.” 

A few minutes passed where she simply inhaled and exhaled smoke, tapping the fingers of her opposite hand on her forearm. She ground the cherry into an ashtray she’d brought outside and retrieved another with an exaggerated flourish.

“You haven’t eaten today,” Johnny observed. 

“I had a coffee.”

“Meal of champions. Caffeine and nicotine,” he chuckled. “You gonna light it?”

She grunted, doing just that. “Trying to kill me any way you possibly can,” she said, smoke curling from her nose. 

“Live a little!” 

V sensed he had more to say, something about the fact that she hadn’t gotten her cunt stuffed in a while so she may as well indulge in other habits, and wondered just how soon it would be Johnny at the wheel. 

“Not that soon,” he said. It wasn’t reassuring knowing that he could pick up on her anxieties like that, but she’d take it. “Sorry, kid. Guess that’s not helping.” 

“Christ,” she muttered, her hand shaking on the next inhale. “Just… stop talking.”

He crossed his arms and wandered off the cinderblock porch, head tilted back to take in the stars. His aviators were missing, which was surprising- he was exactly the sort of asshole who would wear his sunglasses at night. She joined him in looking up, her hair stirring in the breeze, and shut her eyes. 

“Feels like home out here,” V said softly. Johnny spun slowly on his heel and came back, taking it as an invitation to continue their conversation.

“With the Bakkers,” he finished. He knew she didn’t mean that the trailer park felt like home- no, she was talking about the lack of claustrophobia and awful smells and shrill screams that met a sudden end. Here, she could see the stars and feel the wind. 

“What do you know about the fucking Bakkers?” Her eyes were still shut as she took another drag. 

“More now that I’ve been cooped up with your memories. Your first car was a Thorton. That’s why you like River’s. And Panam’s.” 

She shrugged, “I’m a bit of a sap, I guess.”

He nodded to himself, looking around. “The boy has pretty good taste in music.”

“Randy,” she supplied.

“Yeah. Think this is gonna work? The… audio-visual whatever? How do you even know you’ll get any worthwhile clues to follow?”

She shed ash with a tap of her fingertip and opened her eyes to look at him. His rapid-fire questions pulled to mind something Misty had told her earlier. “Gotta have some faith, I guess.”

He gave her a dismissive wave. “You’ve got more than faith, V.” 

“Banking on a steady firing hand, too, yep.” The nicotine was beginning to make her feel nauseated. Johnny phased in beside her, glancing over.

“Thanks for the smokes. You should turn in.” 

“It’s not gone yet.”

She clearly wasn’t getting it, so he repeated slower. “Thanks. For the smokes.”

“Oh.” V put out the half-cashed cigarette gratefully and sniffed her hand with a look of disgust. “I didn’t even bring a toothbrush.”

“Gum in your back pocket, remember? It’ll have to do.”

She gave him a twitch of a tiny, sincere smile. “I appreciate it.” He winked out, leaving her alone with just the whistling wind to keep her company. It would have been nice if she didn’t feel like an ashtray. She kicked off her boots and went back inside to scrub up and wash her mouth out before retrieving the gum. 

Sliding into bed, she popped it into her mouth and chewed. It was weird sleeping in a missing kid’s room, surrounded by all his things, but she was so exhausted that it only haunted her for a minute. The next, she was out. 

  
  


**03:19 08 Jan 2077  
**

“V, wake up.” 

She rolled her head to the side and nearly inhaled the gum she’d fallen asleep chewing. Hands were on her shoulders, shaking the last vestiges of sleep away, and released her as she launched into a coughing fit. 

“Ugh,” she choked through wheezes, “I swallowed it.”

River looked incredibly confused as she peered up at him with bleary eyes. 

“Gum, I fell asleep chewing gum.” 

His sigh registered somewhere between relieved and impatient. “Yawen came through, we’ve got the BD.” He pressed the device into her hands and she set it in her lap to rub her face, tying her hair back in the same movement.

“Okay,” she said with a sniff. “Preem. Let’s do this.” She shook out the jitters now that she was fully conscious and placed the editor on her head, sliding the chip home. River connected it to Randy’s computer so he could help and signaled that he was ready.

“Three, two…”

The lights activated and V was thrown into virtual blackness, a lunch of soymeat smothered with gravy coming into view. Harris was prodding it with a fork as a teacher fussed at him for killing another kid’s pet turtle. River lowered himself to sit beside her on the bed, watching. Relatively uneventful for the mind of a sick fuck, so far. The BD took a quick turn for the worst as Harris chased the teacher down the hall screaming. Somewhere, his grip on reality loosened and the adult flickered into a fully grown cow wearing some sort of mask. V’s hands clenched where they rested on her knees, bunching the fabric of the flannel.

She inhaled a shaky breath and slipped into editing mode to scan her surroundings. They both spotted the bulletin boards as the kid exited the cafeteria and V hit pause to check it out. Further down the hall there was a wrestling trophy dating back to the 40s. All clues pointed to this old school’s location, but it was underwater in present day, derelict and empty.

Next BD. 

Harris had a rough childhood, it seemed. They were in a run-down barn full of sick livestock, the eerie circus tune from the website playing on repeat. His dad backhanded him across the face for forgetting to adjust hormone levels on the cows. Sniffling, the kid shuffled down the aisle and to the back office, a silhouette slipping just out of view as he pushed back a plastic sheet suspended from the ceiling.

“The _fuck_ was that-” V began, pausing. Her scanner couldn’t get a read, so she continued on over a smear of bovine blood into the office where the cartoon was playing. The kid adjusted the hormones and cut off the video after staring balefully at the screen. There were only clues about Harris’ past: an abusive father, dwindling supplies of antibiotics. At this point in his memories, it was clear that the family business was descending into shambles. 

V pulled herself into the next scene, and from where River sat, he could see the deep furrows forming between her eyebrows. A teenager dragged himself up the exact aisle the kid in the previous BD had walked down. “Same place,” she murmured, watching Harris pursue the teen as he tried to escape. Harris was shivering, rubbing his hands, humming the tune. The cartoon. He reached down and stroked that scared face, fumbling over reassurances, his voice syrupy and uneven. She licked her lips, wanting to look away, when the scene mercifully ended. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she whispered. River put a hand on her back. She rewound the feed and sifted through layers to find details she might have missed. There was a clock that read 11 pm, a fire extinguisher stamped with the nearest precinct, and the sound of a trash barge overhead. She relayed the information to River and tried not to look too close at the bodies lying motionless, hooked up to whirring machinery. Hormones, stimulants. “He’s treating them like… animals.”

She suppressed a shudder, looking around the barn. A few other details: a computer server, a box of auto tools. It had once been a garage, River surmised. She dreaded the final bit of the video but pushed through, walking towards the sliver of visible sky. Then, she recognized the towers commemorating an album release. The colors changed every hour. It gave them the direction they were looking for.

River’s fingers were flying over the keys, trying to narrow down their search, and that final piece of the puzzle did it. “Edgewood farm,” he said. “I know where that is!” He turned to V as she ducked out of the device. Her eyes were faraway, but she leapt into motion before he could say anything, tugging on her leather pants and jacket over the ill-fitting flannel. 

“Let’s go then,” she said, full of urgency as she holstered her pistol. 

He followed her out to the truck and hopped in, throwing gravel as he whipped the Thorton onto the main road. V sank into the passenger seat with her head in her hands, trying to purge the twisted shit she’d just witnessed to no avail. At least Johnny was quiet, but she’d happily trade a limb for one of his tension-dissolving jokes right about now.

River fractured behind the wheel, cursing and blaming himself. “I should’ve been playing closer attention,” he bit out. “I’m his _uncle_ , for fuck’s sake!”

V was only able to offer a pat on the knee until she found her way out of the fog. She slipped bit by bit back into a cool head- compartmentalizing, tucking away. River didn’t need a shrinking violet- he needed V with every ounce of steel and grit she had, and that’s exactly what she’d give him.

She made sure her gun was loaded as the truck careened around corners and through a chain-link fence. “It’s not your fault,” V said, voice careful and measured. “Kids will look for comfort anywhere but home. I sure as fuck did.”

He gave her a fleeting glance, then clocked his speed. 110. “Hang on, Randy.”

The farm wasn’t far from the trailer park. They pulled into a field a few minutes later and River killed the ignition while she scanned the vicinity. V seized his arm before he could get out, pointing in the direction of the farmhouse. “Turrets.” He spotted them on the porch a second later, situated to either side of a security camera and motion sensor. The barn had another set. “Wait, I’ll take them out.” 

V worked quickly, lights winking out one by one and turrets sinking back into the grates. “There’s landmines, too. A fuck ton, armed remotely. A generator, I think- maybe in the house judgin' by the ping. That’s the hub.”

She darted out of the truck, gun drawn before he could string the disjointed words together into coherent thought. Her shadow slipped across the yard and he followed as quickly as he could. His comm chirped before he’d even reached the door, relaying that she’d taken down the network between breaths.

River made for the barn and tried to throw open the doors, but they were bolted from the inside. V was already skirting the edge of the building attempting to find another way in. Her shout came shortly after she disappeared around the left side. She’d found a ladder leading up to the roof and hopped down through the open skylight, boots meeting the rusted metal of a dilapidated catwalk. The supports groaned from disuse. She vaulted over the side with the kind of grace that could only come from instinct and knew exactly where to go thanks to the BD.

River was close behind, weaving in and out of pens trying to find his nephew. He reached the last one on the right and raised the alarm. “He’s here, V!” She was at his side a second later, eyes wide and corneas glowing as her scanner scrolled through vitals.

“He’s alive.” Her glance darted to the machinery, following wires overhead. “I’m gonna shut off the system so we can get him unhooked.”

She could hear River calling it in as she ran to the office and began sifting through the computer. The toggle switch was virtual, connected remotely to the grid. A few taps was all it took to power the whole operation down. Probably engineered that way- killing life support to a bunch of sick kids meant no witnesses.

“That did it!” River yelled. “Help me lift this fucking thing!”

By the time she got back to the pen, he was trying to leverage his body weight against the steel bar holding Randy immobile. She took up position from the other side and began to pull. It took a few tries, but it finally gave way and shrieked open. V scrambled to remove the mask from the kid’s face, pulling the tube from his mouth as gently as she could before cradling his head in her hands. Randy’s hair was damp and hot with sweat, but his lips were moving soundlessly and his eyes rolled in their sockets. Poor kid’s vitals were a mess. She swept a ring of perspiration from his brow with her thumb and looked up at River. 

He looked like he was going to collapse from relief. 

V focused on Randy, her own adrenaline crash wrenching a laugh from her throat. “Christ, kid,” she told him, “You did so good. Don’t even know it, but you left a trail of breadcrumbs.”

She scrubbed a forearm across her nose, remembering the other boys. “You take him. I’m gonna go disconnect the rest.” 

River carefully supported Randy’s head. She was moving with frenetic energy as she hustled from pen to pen removing masks and checking vitals. A few were already gone, one for several days. She was on the last kid when they heard sirens approaching and rotors overhead.

V met them at the barn doors after disengaging the bolts and directed medics to the survivors. A coroner was on staff, following closely behind. 

The following hour was a whirl of questions and activity. V showed detectives the security system and secret room behind the panel wall of the farmhouse and badges carried boxes of evidence out to their vehicles. Inside the barn, she explained how the hormone regulation system was fed through the ceiling and rigged over the pens. It surprised her that there wasn't a netrunner on the response team, but it could have been that the perp was already neutralized. The final line of questioning led her outside to give a statement to the badge in charge. Someone pressed a coffee cup into her hand after she signed off and she watched as the med team brought Randy out on a stretcher. River approached her shortly after he was loaded up.

“We did it, V.” He wore a broad smile, stopping a foot away and making what seemed like a snap decision to gather her into a tight hug. She returned it with her unoccupied hand and buried her face in his chest. It felt like she hadn’t breathed at all that night. River was solid and warm against her frozen face. She let out an exhale and with it poured out all the anxiety and stress she’d been carrying. His organic hand settled on the back of her head and stayed there while she wondered how long it had been since she’d actually been embraced. 

It was a month or so before the Arasaka heist, she decided. Jackie had been excited about something and showed up at her apartment with a twelve pack and clobbered her the second the door slid open. He’d lifted her right off her feet and swung her in a circle and she... she'd tried to wriggle out of it, too tough to let him toss her around. But that was Jackie: exuberant joy, enthusiasm, and love. She dug her fingers into River’s shirt before reluctantly letting go.

“We did it,” she agreed as he pulled away, voice thin. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. She realized her lashes were wet and dabbed them with her sleeve- _his_ sleeve, laughing it off. 

“I’m so good. Tired, though. You should go on the transport with Randy.”

He nodded absently, searching her face. “Yeah, I will. They’re getting him ready. Just called Joss, she’s on her way to the hospital with the kids.”

She sipped her coffee as he leaned against the fence beside her. 

“Thank you, V. For everything.” 

“Hey, you paid for this favor upfront, remember?” she joked. That earned her a playful nudge. 

“I mean it.” He trailed off, looking at the distant skyline. “There’s still the matter of Harris.”

V turned her head, smile fading a degree. “What about him?”

“That sick fuck can’t see the light of day ever again.” He met her eyes, “I’m gonna strangle the life out of him with my bare hands.”

She chewed her lip to give her time to line up exactly what it was she needed to say. “Riv… let it go. It ain’t worth it. Forget about him and be there for your family. They need you now more than ever. Chasing revenge is just a bottomless rabbit hole.”

He considered her words for a long moment, looking everywhere but at her. Maybe he hadn’t anticipated this sort of advice from a merc, but that’s all she had to offer. V wasn’t sure she’d be able to take it if she were in his shoes, but his soul was gentler than hers. Killing a comatose man, no matter what that man did, was so far beyond River’s nature that it would wreck him. 

He finally looked back at her. “You might be right. I’ll think on it. Right now, I've gotta meet up with the fam.” As if in afterthought, he asked, “Do me another favor?”

V raised an eyebrow, waiting. 

“Take my truck back to Joss'?” He gestured to where it was still parked. 

“Trade you for another story over that beer. That makes three. I’m counting.”

He grinned, “Done. Take care, V. I’ll call you.”

“You’d better.” 

River walked away and clamored into the transport. As it lifted off, she felt a crest of nausea hit the back of her throat- a combination of nerves and an empty stomach- and retched bile and coffee into the grass. Her stomach hurt. It'd been almost thirty-six hours since she'd had a square meal. 

“Gross.” Johnny’s nose was wrinkled in disgust when she straightened to wipe her mouth on the back of her hand. 

“Oh, God, why you- why now.” She groaned. 

“Just here for the drive,” he explained and followed her to River's truck. She slid into the driver’s seat and made some adjustments to accommodate her much-shorter legs. V wasn't particularly short at five seven, but it felt like the wheel was a yard away. Johnny kicked back in the passenger’s side with his arms behind his head as the Thorton purred to life. V thought about scolding him for feet on the dash, but decided it didn't really matter if a ghost was getting ghost-dirt on the interior. She shifted into gear and pulled it onto the road, enjoying the crunch of gravel through open windows. Not exactly how she planned to start this day off, but the sun was shining and the radio was on. Wind, cold and crisp, rushed through her hair. 

Her nomadic heart stirred in her chest, overriding all else as she put the pedal to the floorboard.


	4. Chapter 4

**20:07 09 Jan 2077**

  
El Coyote Cojo was packed on Friday nights, filled with the clacking of pool sticks and music. The tables were all occupied and the dance floor was a sea of bodies. V watched from her perch at the bar with a drink in hand. Jackie’d been all about the biweekly salsa contest and even roped her into participating a few times. He was the best dance partner, surprisingly light on his feet with an innate rhythm and knack for working the judges. The crowd had loved him, which made those two Fridays a month something that she used to look forward to. It wasn’t just due to free drinks for the winners, either; she and Jack would sit at the bar until closing and toss back shots, trading tales of whatever gigs they’d gotten since last seeing one another. 

She downed her tequila and stared at the empty barstool beside her. It had been his spot. Best seat in the house, now vacant. Nobody took Jackie’s seat.

“Another, cariña?” Pepe leaned on the bar, giving her a look she recognized: pity. Everyone in Heywood seemed to take turns giving her the same one. Mama Welles said they meant well, which V didn’t doubt, but it twisted the knife of guilt in her gut. She’d been over the heist hundreds of times, calculating what she could have done differently. Talking him out of it had never been an option, but maybe if she’d been quicker getting to the fucking relic… maybe if she’d found another way out…

“V?” Pepe was still there. 

She shook her head, “Just gonna close out the tab.”

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” 

He walked off to fill another glass and V sank back into her thoughts. It’d been a hell of a week. She wished she could tell Jackie all about it- from the mayor’s assassination to the hunt for Randy. He would have given her a load of shit about her soft spot for River, but that was just Jackie’s way. Anyone that V liked had to pass the Welles stress test, but they’d eventually become his adopted family, too.

Pepe returned with another tequila and placed it gingerly onto the bar in front of Jackie’s spot, same as he did every other Friday night. She gave him a quick smile and transferred eddies over before getting to her feet. “Tell Mama Welles g’night for me.”

“Will do.” 

She edged into the mill of bodies and towards the side exit. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, V shouldered the door open and stepped out into the night. Jackie’s Arch was in the back alley where she’d left it. As she kicked a leg over and settled into the seat, her comm began to ring. Ducking her head to connect, V slotted the key into the ignition. “It’s V.”

“Hey, glad you picked up,” River greeted her on the other end. “I’m leaving the medical center right now, thought you might want that beer if you’re not busy?”

“Far as I’m aware, there aren’t any skulls left to crack tonight. I’d like that.” 

Her way of saying ‘not busy at all’ had flair, he thought. “Great, where can I meet you?”

V’s breath crystalized in the frigid air. “Hmm, I was gonna pick up some takeout and head home. Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope.”  
  
“Aces. You grab the beer, I’ll bring the noodles. I’ll flick ya the address and meet you there in thirty?” She sent it, zipping her jacket.

“Sounds good. See you.” 

She nudged the kickstand up with the heel of her boot and walked the bike out of the alley before firing it up and turning onto the main road. The night was still young, it seemed. The Coyote faded in the rearview and music filtered into her audio implant. She liked tearing through the city on her bike, hair whipping out of the braid she’d carefully tucked it into. Streetlights whipped by in a blur as she wove in and out of traffic and blew red lights. The cops were occupied enough with murders and robberies without having to chase down some asshole on a motorcycle. 

During the ride she toyed with how much she was going to actually tell River about the biochip. She trusted him to the extent that she could trust a badge and didn’t think he’d have much to say about where and how she’d acquired it, but there was always that niggling thread of doubt that made her scramble for a different explanation. Now that he was suspended, she wondered if it had tempered his loyalty to the force- and if her hand in finding his nephew would endear him to silence. On a deeper level, however, she hesitated to compromise the tentative friendship they’d cultivated. After all, Takemura still called her a thief and she’d been around him enough that he should have had a better read on her.

But River wasn’t a corpo loyalist. Her sigh was buffeted by the wind. She craved a fucking cigarette.

The megabuilding came into view and she dropped her speed to keep with traffic. Dinner would be coming from Jack’s favorite noodle place, which had become her own lonely tradition in the months after his death. It would be nice not to eat alone on the couch for once. 

Pulling into the entrance, she found a spot close to the stand and parked. She dug the pack of cigs out of a pocket and lit up before walking over to place her order. The vendor recognized V and greeted her with a nod. “The regular?”

She lit up, inhaling deeply. “Make it two tonight. How’s biz?”

He shrugged, “Can’t complain. It’ll be ready in a sec.” 

V stood patiently off to the side, staring up at the skyline and waiting for the nicotine to hit her system. She could have anticipated that Johnny would have chosen that moment to appear. He glitched into visibility a moment before he spoke.

“Inviting him to your place… bold move. You barely know the guy.” They stood shoulder to shoulder and V glanced over, flicking ash.

“What’re you worried about?”

“That you’ve forgotten he’s a goddamn cop.”

She laughed bitterly, “That’s not something you just _ forget _ .” Then, “I’ve tried.”

Johnny squared on her, pulling the aviators off his face. “You’re too soft, V.”

“Get fucked.” V dragged in a breath, holding the smoke in her lungs as she blinked her eyes forcefully shut. It didn’t help. When she opened them again, Johnny was still there, winking through the cloud of her breath. 

“Do me a favor, take a pill before sucking his cock, at least.”

She looked away and threw the cigarette down, grinding it under her heel. The vendor called her order and when she turned to retrieve it, Johnny was gone. She transferred eddies without pleasantry and grabbed the bag before heading into the building. Damn right she’d take a fucking pill. 

The elevator ride was uneventful and she strode to key the door open with her free hand. Nibbles had hopped out of the laundry basket and greeted her at the entry with a litany of chirps and purrs. 

“Hey, little man,” V cooed, the door sliding shut behind her. She set the takeout on the computer desk and reached down to give the cat an affectionate scratch between the ears. It arched beneath her fingertips, dragging its back beneath her nails and twining its tail around her wrist. “You hungry?”   
  
He darted to his dish and she filled it dutifully before finding the bottle of omega blockers. She had to stop herself from just downing the whole thing out of pure irritation. Two would keep Johnny nice and quiet until morning she guessed, throwing her head back to down them with an already-open can of water. 

She then made quick work of straightening up her place, sweeping a few cans and bottles into the trash. There was a knock at the door when she returned the receptacle to its spot beneath the sink. Nibbles barely looked up from his bowl.

“It’s open,” she shouted.

Unwise under typical circumstances to keep her apartment unlocked, but her piece was resting on the counter within reach and V was confident in her reflexes. River seemed to have the same thought. 

“Livin' on the edge,” he said by way of ‘hello’ as he stepped inside. “Coulda been anybody out there.”

V straightened, walking over to greet him. River looked leagues better than the last time she’d seen him, freshly shaven and expression untroubled. There was a visitor badge stuck to his coat from his visit with Randy. He shrugged it off and V tried to keep her expression neutral as she drank in the roll of muscles under his fitted grey shirt. 

“My apartment is the most dangerous place in the city,” she said with a smirk, taking the case of beer as he passed it to her. She jerked her head in the direction of the couch, “Make yourself at home. Dinner’s on the desk, I’ll grab an opener.” 

She turned to sift through a drawer while River watched. V clearly had just rolled in if her wind-mussed hair was any indication. It was a silver riot falling over one eye, the other side shaved so he could see the blackout tattoos creeping up the graceful column of her neck. He again vaguely wondered how she hadn’t been swept up by some corpo headhunter with looks like that, but decided to head into the living room before he made her uncomfortable. 

He picked up the bag containing the food and brought it to the low table, settling into the couch. “Smells good- what is it?” 

“Soba noodles with real vegetables. Best in Watson,” she said, descending the few stairs into the sitting area. She had two bottles already opened and passed him one before taking a seat. They were occupying the spots on either side of the couch’s corner, close enough that their knees were touching and they wouldn’t have to crane their necks to look at eachother. 

“You look good, River… lot less stressed,” she complimented, taking a long pull from her beer. 

“All thanks to you,” he returned. He passed her a pint and a pair of chopsticks. “Nice place, looks almost exactly how I’d picture a merc’s hideout.” 

She snickered as she opened her food, “All the guns, you mean?”    
  
“You missed the sarcasm. I didn’t have to walk over a single body to get here.”

V laughed. He liked how she threw her head back when she did so, let it carry into her shoulders and loosen her edge. She looked sly when she said, “Jokes on you, they’re all stuffed in the closet. Barely had time to clean up all the blood before you got here.” 

“Mhmm.” He washed down a mouthful. “That’s more like it.”

"What do you have against mercs? Some of us clean the streets better than a whole department of yours.” V didn’t mind a little banter, but had to defend her honor, however playfully she did so. Kid gloves were easy with River. She chewed as he formulated a response, looking like he was hesitating to tell her something.

Finally, he said, “I don’t have a department. I quit.” 

Her chopsticks met the bottom of the container. “What?” 

“Been feeling disillusioned for a while,” he explained. “Han was the last straw.” 

V raised her beer, “Well, fuck. Congratulations, Riv.” That certainly solved more than one dilemma. 

He brought his bottle to hers with a clink. “Thanks.” 

“So what’s the plan now? You gonna put that heart to work?”

River’s smile was unmistakable even as he was taking a drink. “PI work, maybe. I dunno. One day at a time.”

“Best way to live,” she mused. 

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, V thinking about the logistics of taking up private investigating in a big city. There would certainly be no shortage of work, but she wondered if he’d attach himself to a particular fixer or whether he would go it alone. It would probably be easier to start up with an established caseload. River hadn’t come seeking professional advice, though. She’d let him pick her brain when and if he intended. For now, it was nice sharing a meal with someone she’d grown to like without looking over her shoulder or worrying about her smartass stowaway popping up to kill her buzz.

She sat down her half-eaten pint and rose. “Want another beer?”

“Sure.” 

V went to grab two more, but decided to just bring the whole case. She returned with the bottle opener and popped one open, beginning to slot the other in the opener when River stopped her. 

“Wanna see a party trick?”

“I have a feeling I know what it is,” she said, passing it over. He pulled up a sleeve and pressed the cap into his forearm, twisting it off with ease. V had never mastered that particular maneuver and watched with interest. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the show.

Her appraisal was a quirk at the corner of her mouth before taking a swig of her beer. The apartment was a lot warmer than it had been outside. She unzipped and shrugged off her jacket to drape it over the back of the couch, straightening the top beneath. It was her favorite: black, short sleeved, and cropped midway down her ribs. A languid stretch had her sinking further into the cushions as she tipped the bottle back once more.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” River began, organic eye dark as he studied her. “But you look like you belong on a billboard, not gunning down gonks. Feel like telling me how you wound up here now?”  
  
She smoothed her hair back, trying not to look as flattered as she felt. Plenty of people had said the same thing in not so many words- or so politely- but it was different coming from someone she’d let her guard down for. “Story for story.”

“You first.”

V grunted, hooking a foot over her knee. The second beer was almost gone and she’d begun to eye another when River caught on and performed his trick again for her. She drained her current drink before switching them out with an intentional brush of her fingers against his. “Alright, fine.” She dragged in a breath and began to tell him a condensed account of how the Bakkers merged with Snake Nation and her consequent defection. She told him about running odd jobs before meeting Jackie, which is where he stopped her.

“Welles, right?”

She pointed at him with her bottle. “Did your homework. Jackie fuckin’ Welles, the best damn friend a girl could ask for. Took me in, showed me the ropes, treated me like a sister when I didn’t have a soul to turn to.”

River noticed the melancholy bleeding into her tone, a shallow crease appearing between his brows. Then he remembered hearing that Welles flatlined months back and inwardly kicked himself. Of course he’d go and say something to upset her. “I’m sorry, V,” he murmured. 

She shrugged, laughing bitterly, and took another long drink. “He’d be damned proud of the name I’ve made for myself.”

River traded out his beer for a fresh one, raising it. “To Jackie Welles, then.”

V looked directly at him, and the focus froze the breath in his lungs. She raised her beer, expression hard to read. It settled on grateful. “To Jackie.” She drank and he followed suit. 

River looked to change the subject. “Alright, I’ll go. What do you wanna hear first?” 

She was thumbing the label on the bottle. “Why’d you become a cop?”

He laughed, “Should’ve seen that one coming.”

A smile surfaced on V’s face, and relief crashed through him when her regular undercurrent of mischief returned. “Story for story was the agreement, Riv,” she reminded him. She unfolded her legs to stretch out, one foot on the floor and the other settling in River’s lap. In the ambient neon light coming through the window, she looked deceptively soft except for the juxtaposition of black pupils against white irises. He settled a hand just below her knee and traced the inside seam of her pantleg.

“Alright,” he relented with a good-natured sigh. He labored through a retelling of a night he’d rather forget, of the robbery at his folks’ corner store that left him and Joss orphans. He couldn’t remember the last time he spilled his guts like that, but V listened empathetically, sipping her beer. 

“Christ, River. I’m so sorry,” she finally said. 

He heaved a breath, looking her over. “The fuckers that did it were never caught. All dead ends, probably paid off the law. Never sat right with me that people like that could run free, leaving a body count in their path. So I became a cop ‘cause I wanted to do something about it- maybe spare some other kid what I went through.”

“I… don’t blame you.” She struggled to get those words out, clearly at odds with herself. “Must’ve been hard to be effective slogging through all the crooked cops.”

“I’ve got no regrets,” he replied. 

V sighed after finishing her third beer. “Well, now that we’ve gotten ourselves nice and depressed, how about I pick the next story?”

“Shoot.”

“You asked about my,” she searched for the best word, “Episode, at the Red Queen’s Race. What would you say if I told you I’m dyin’?”

He hesitated. “I’d ask you what from, and what I can do about it.”

She wasn’t expecting that answer. “That’s awfully sweet, River, but I dunno if there’s anything you  _ can _ do. I’ve got a few things in the works but… it’s not looking great.” 

A muscle in his cheek twitched and he stopped messing with the hem on her pants, settling his palm against her calf. “You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

She relented after he gave her a pointed look that reminded her of their deal, launching into the story about the Arasaka heist and the biochip. She left out the details of watching the corpo patriarch being murdered right before her eyes, focusing instead on how Jackie put the biochip in his head to protect its integrity as they escaped the building. Her description of Jackie’s death, her transfer of the chip, and Dex’s betrayal didn’t seem to surprise him, but the bullet to her brain and being dragged out of the dump did. The story sounded far-fetched even as it came out of her mouth, especially when she got to who it was embedded on the chip and explained how he followed her around like a stray. 

“Johnny Silverhand,” he repeated quietly. “That’s fuckin’ wild.”

“Tell me about it.”

River was looking around, “Is he here right now?” 

“Nah,” she said, smirking. “I’ve got a bottle of pills that keep him sealed up when I’ve got company.”

Her joke pinged right off of him. “I’m gonna talk to Yawen about this,” he said. Catching himself, his voice softened, “If that’s okay with you.”

“I’ll take all the help I can get.” 

He squeezed her leg. “We’re gonna get this figured out. If we have to take turns saving lives, that’s just how it’s gonna be.”

V felt her heart constrict in her chest. She knew the probable futility of the situation and was already halfway to accepting her fate, but River’s concern and subsequent decision to help made her feel something that she hadn’t felt since Jackie shuffled off the mortal coil. She swallowed, “Thank you.” Her voice was raspy with emotion and he picked up on her gravitas easily, responding with a serious nod. 

“So, a terminally ill merc and an orphan ex-cop walk into a bar…” River began, and V pulled her leg back to nudge his thigh with the toe of her boot.

“Don’t you dare finish that joke. I wanna live the punchline myself.”

He laughed, reaching for another beer. “Number four- you in?”

“Hit me.”

He twisted the cap off and passed it to her with a broad smile, clearly proud of his ability to lighten the mood. V could have kissed him for it. 

“Okay, let’s just do two stories tonight, save the rest for next time,” she said.

River popped open his own bottle. “I like the sound of a next time.”

V eyed him, “You know all my secrets now, I gotta stay on your good side.” She reached down to pull off her boots and scooted up beside him on the couch, head against his shoulder with her legs folded out to the opposite side. The beers were beginning to hit, making everything fuzzy and warm, letting her lean into the comfort he offered.

He draped a thick arm around her shoulder. “Couldn’t leave it if you tried, V.” 

“Mm. Don’t say that, I’ll wanna prove I can.” She toyed with his metal hand, studying the joints and how they moved with the eyes of an experienced tinkerer. He was content to let her mess with it if it meant that he could enjoy her company a little longer. It was getting late and he would have to be careful not to overstay his welcome, especially since he noticed how the alcohol was bringing a flush to her cheeks and the tip of her nose. His sheer size bolstered his own tolerance and he probably couldn’t catch up if he tried. She glanced up at him, rolling her cheek against his shoulder. “So how’d you lose this?”

“Nothing exciting,” he answered, flexing his metal fingers. He could see her mind working, probably calculating what she could do to chrome it out. “Severed at the wrist by a Tyger Claw my first year on the force.” 

“Couldn’t be reattached?” 

“Took a while to find it.” He grinned down at her wrinkled nose. “C’mon, like you don’t see gorier shit every day.”

V looked disgusted. “I don’t make a habit of mutilating the bodies I drop.” 

He laughed, “That’s fair.”

She tipped her drink back, taking another long pull. River had a thought, then. Though he knew that another question was outside the bounds of their agreement, he’d try and squeak it by.

“What’s V stand for?” 

V looked sly again, “Venerable. Vexing. Vali-”

“Okay, okay. Noted. I’ll ask next time. You’re looking like you’re gonna pass out anyway.”

“M’tired,” she agreed. “You’re welcome to the couch if you don’t think you can drive. It’s late.”

River took his hand back, gently untangling her from around his arm. “I’ll be alright. Gonna help you with this before I go, though.” He stood to collect bottles and takeout containers, stuffing them in the bag dinner came in. “Trash can?”

“Under the sink.”

He strode off to deposit the bag and returned a moment later to find V curled up on her side, struggling to keep her eyes open. It was a sight that made him realize the merc wasn’t quite so tough as she let on. Her arm was tucked beneath her head, hair a splash of quicksilver against the cushions and draped over a portion of her face. She caught him looking and dragged herself upright with a stretch. “I’ll walk you out.” 

“Great, I think I’d get lost in the twenty feet to the door.” 

She laughed her raspy laugh, padding up the stairs. “It’s only polite.”

They strolled to the door together and River collected his coat, shrugging it on while she watched. She leaned against the wall when he turned back to her. 

“Thanks for having me. I needed this,” he told her.

Her response was earnest, “I did too. Call me, alright?”

River’s gaze was affectionate when he raised her chin. “Count on it.” His chest expanded as he took in a breath, simply committing her image to memory. “Night, V.”

“Night.”

He stepped out into the hall and keyed the door shut behind him, leaving V to muse over the night she’d just had. She unfolded from her lean slowly and went to brush her teeth and wash her face before turning in. Nibbles was in the laundry basket, a tiny circle curled up on her nightclothes and purring away. Not wanting to disturb the sleeping cat, she kicked out of her pants and crawled into bed. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning, proceed to the last half of this chapter at your own risk. :) Thanks to everyone that left me a comment, I'm totally blown away by the love.

**12:03 13 Jan 2077**

  
V crouched in the dust, securing a brand new saddlebag to her Arch. She didn’t know how Panam got her hands on honest-to-God leather, but it was a fine piece, tanned and tooled with a ribboned design that reminded her of shoals of sand blowing in the desert wind. It had been Panam’s way of saying thanks after V helped rescue Saul from the Raffen Shiv. V had tried to talk her out of it, explaining how it was too much and that it could fetch a pretty stack of eddies at any pawn shop in the city, but her friend refused to hear any of it. 

She stepped back to admire her handiwork. Symbolism was never lost on her: Jackie’s bike, Panam’s saddlebag... she carried pieces of her little family with her everywhere she went. Her eyes drifted beyond the Arch and up the ridge. The Aldecaldos camp was buzzing with excitement as they welcomed back their leader. The strumming of a guitar carried on the breeze and bottles clinked while children chased each other through the dunes. Her recent days running gigs for Dakota and nights spent at camp had felt closer to home than anything since Jackie died. 

“You can’t stay. You know that, right?” 

V had been so submerged in her wistful train of thought that Johnny’s sudden presence made her flinch. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Yeah, I know.” 

He studied the horizon beside her. “You could walk out into those hills and never be seen again.” 

She turned her head, “You see it too.”

“See _what_?”  
  
V stared back into the distance. “The freedom.” 

Johnny had never considered it that way. What he saw looking out at the desolation was a slow, thirsty death and dusty bones, but the way she framed it was almost poetic. He would never admit that there was a certain wild and dangerous romance to the idea of an open desert road. “You’re kinda batshit, V.”

“No thanks to you.” There was no bite in the observation. She pulled away from the view with a last lingering look and produced a bandana from her pocket to knot around her neck. Misty had volunteered to feed the cat in her absence, but V knew it was time to head back to the city and get back to biz. Pulling the bandana over her nose and sliding her aviators back down over her eyes, she kicked a leg over the Arch and slotted her key into the ignition. It roared to life beneath her; the warm sunlight, wind, and vibration of the bike saved her flagging mood. For a minute, it almost felt like she was back with the Bakkers and McCoy would be waiting around the next corner with a cold one. 

She revved out of the encampment in a cloud of dust. 

Midday in the badlands passed by in a blur of beige and orange. The new all-terrain tires she’d sprung for at a garage on the outskirts of the city made it easier to grip the sketchier portions of the highway where nature had begun to overtake the last vestiges of human activity. It seemed like civilization’s retreat to Night City left the rest of the surrounding area to forget anyone had ever lived here. Sand and rocks littered fractured asphalt, which the Arch handled with ease. 

The radio droned on about corp activity and death counts and she switched it off in favor of the rush in her ears. Miles flew past mercifully absent of anything but her speed gauge.

As she neared city limits, her comm lit up. She was tempted to let it ring until she realized it was River’s ID flashing in her optics. Slowing down enough to pull over, she accepted the call. Her words would have been stolen by the wind if she’d answered at speed. 

“And here I was beginning to worry I’d said something offputting,” she joked instead of saying hello.

That earned her a laugh from the other end of the line. “Hey, V.” There was a warmth in his voice that she hadn’t caught before. Memories of dinner at her apartment came rushing back, of how he’d held her chin up to study her before leaving. She touched her face despite herself.

“How ya holding up? How’s Randy?”

“Good, good. Randy’s still in the hospital, comin’ home tomorrow or the day after.”

“That’s great news,” she breathed out. 

“Yeah, hey, I’m having dinner at Joss’ tonight. Thought you might want to come? She wants to thank you.”

“Oh, Joss wants to see me, huh?” Her tone was playful.

He caught on, admitting, “I’d like to see you too.”

V laughed. “Was that so hard?”

“Guess not. You remember where to find me?” 

“Course, can I bring anything?”

“Just an appetite. I’m cooking, wouldn’t want to subject you to one of Joss’ culinary disasters.” 

She grinned, “Sounds great, I’ll see you then.”

River stole a line from her vocabulary. “Aces.”

V disconnected the holo and hit the open road. 

  
  


**17:00**

  
  


River’s niece and nephew were waiting when V pulled into the trailer park, bursting with stories that they’d been wanting to tell her. She listened as she deposited her riding gear into the saddlebag and buckled it shut. Monique was the chattier one, telling her all about the hospital and the machines her brother was hooked up to with detail surprising for a nine year old. She’d barely switched off her bike when Dorian threw a curveball. 

“Uncle River’s been talking about you all day,” he said in the careless way all kids said significant things before running off towards the trailer. V’s eyes followed him, catching on River standing out by a burner near the picnic table. He greeted her with a relaxed wave that indicated he had no idea what his nephew had just spilled. She dismounted and headed over, her stomach feeling like she’d just dropped out of gear and was careening towards a wall. She hadn’t considered that River was interested in her- not in _that_ way- especially after telling him that her clock was ticking with the chip in her head. Now everything was cast in a different light: maybe his concern and offer to help over dinner hadn’t been just a friendly musing after all. 

She palmed her suddenly sweaty hands on her pants. _V, you fucking gonk_ . Of _course_ it wasn’t just friendly. She’d practically been in his lap and he hadn’t made a move, which meant that he hadn’t been banking on a hookup. No, he was probably aiming for something that wasn’t superficial, and that made her more nervous than the thought of infiltrating a scav nest. 

Monique had left to find her brother and V approached River alone, trying to keep a lid on the chaos of her thoughts. She gave him a smile that she knew looked tenuous, but he was focused on the bubbling pot and didn’t notice. 

“Glad you made it,” he told her, finally looking up. “You mind stirring this?”

“Course,” she managed, taking the spoon from him. She had to find something, anything, to talk about or she was going to lose her nerve. Lamely, she asked, “Jambalaya, huh?”

He looked pleased with himself, mouth pulling into a grin that lit up his entire face. He looked like a completely different man than the detective she’d shaken down at the Chubby Buffalo. This version of River looked like he lived off more than a few hours of sleep and copious amounts of coffee. His coat was missing and he wore a sleeveless shirt that clung to each crease between the muscles on his abdomen. V forced her eyes back to the pot and began to stir. “My specialty.” He pulled the rag off his shoulder and wiped his hands, observing, “You got a tan.” 

She looked down at her arms as if she’d just noticed the sun-deepened shade of bronze overtaking her normal olive complexion. “Yeah, guess I did. Been in the badlands for the better part of the week running jobs.” 

“Anything interesting to report?”

V shook her head, sucking in her bottom lip before answering, “Your usual nomad shenanigans.” 

“You alright? You seem distracted.” 

For once, she didn’t have a joke in her arsenal to fire off. “Uh huh.”

River frowned. “Okay, out with it.”

She groped for some other explanation before ultimately relenting. It was useless to throw empty words at someone who used to read people for a living, even if it risked killing the mood. “Why did you invite a dead woman to your family cookout, River?” 

He glanced around, making sure that the kids weren’t in earshot before rounding the burner. He pried the spoon from her grasp and turned the heat down. “You don’t look dead to me.” This close, V could catch the faint notes of his cologne. She swallowed, flicking her eyes sidelong at him from under the fall of her hair, but said nothing. He turned her to face him, organic hand leeching heat into her hip. “You aren’t gonna die. I’m gonna help you figure it out, remember? And on the off chance we come up empty handed… I like you. Want you around, no matter how long that is.” 

That admission took her by surprise. She had been under the impression that he hadn’t considered the possibilities if their search for answers turned out to be fruitless. V finally raised her head to look at him straight-on, scratching up one of her wily smiles, however halfhearted it felt. “You like me,” she repeated. The knot in her gut was beginning to loosen. 

He chuckled, “Can’t believe you didn’t catch on already. Don’t let it go to your head.” 

“No promises.” 

“You flirting with me, V?” He studied her- the light smattering of new freckles across her cheekbones, the small scuff cresting her jawline- before dropping his eye to her lips. 

The last shred of doubt fell away and reached out to shove his chest. He caught her hand easily and threaded metal fingers between hers. “Don’t let it go to _your_ head”, she parried. 

Just then, Joss emerged from the trailer, calling, “Hey, you forgot the rice!”

They quickly disentangled, River turning away to retrieve the box from his sister. V caught the knowing look Joss shot him and snickered, greeting her with a wave. Joss had a phone pressed to her ear and returned the wave when her other hand freed up. She went back into the trailer to finish her conversation.

Gravel crunched under River’s boots as he returned to the other side of the burner. He cleared his throat to get his bearings and rolled his shoulders. “Where was I?” 

"I believe you were about to pour in the tomatoes,” V supplied, gesturing to the open can on the table. He nodded and passed her the rice. 

“You can put this in after,” he told her, and she was immensely thankful for his knack at dispelling awkwardness. He emptied the can and she tipped the box into the pot until he gestured it was enough, leaving the burner at a simmer. “Want a beer?”

“I’d love one.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the porch and they walked together across the yard and up the cinderblock stairs. It was easier to breathe now that V didn’t have to guess at what was going on in his head. He sank into a chair and she did the same, stretching out her legs to cross at the ankle. She accepted a beer gratefully and took a swig with a sigh. Her throat had felt bone-dry due to her ride through the arid environment. They drank in silence before V remembered something.

“So, what was your decision with Harris?” 

River shrugged one shoulder. “I went to see him.”

“And?” 

“Finding him there in that bed, somewhere between sleep and death.. I couldn’t do it. Walked out, considered the case closed.”

V was proud of him, but wouldn’t say so. “You made the right call.” 

“I know.” He looked at her earnestly, “I had good advice to work with.”

She was about to say something self-depreciating when the kids tore out of the doorway. Dorian hovered near River’s knee, pleading, “You said you’d play with us.”

Monique added, “You promised!” River was clearly helpless without V as backup. Two to one won out.

“Alright, alright.” He nudged her before getting up, “You want to join us?”

She rose from her chair and placed her beer back on the table, teasing, “What’re we playin’, Uncle River?” 

Monique was the first down the stairs, shouting, “You’ll see!” She called her brother back over, who looked at V as he jogged up.

“Big trouble in Heywood,” he told her, trying to adjust the hat on his head. She reached down to fix it for him before pulling the bill over his face. He protested, giggling with a “ _Heeey_!” They got to the table as River and Monique were gearing up and Dorian handed V a headset. She hesitated before slipping it over her eyes. 

The game’s loading screen featured big, stylized lettering reminiscent of a lot of first-person shooters. When the VR activated, she looked down at herself and realized that she was outfitted in an NCPD patrol uniform, complete with name badge. She glanced over at River and tried not to snort at his own ill-fitting getup. 

“Guess they don’t make ‘em in your size,” she ribbed, and he couldn’t help but laugh. The kids flickered in a moment later as unrecognizable adults. Monique chambered a bullet with an exaggerated flourish. 

“V, let me introduce you to Captain Joan McClane and Lieutenant Henry Callahan. They’re our force’s best and brightest, wouldn’t wanna get in their way.” 

Dorian sniffed, crossing his arms. “I always work alone- no exceptions.” He looked at River. “Even for _you_.” 

Monique echoed the sentiment and V was struggling to keep a straight face. She dropped her voice. “Heard of cops like you,” she said very seriously, “Lone wolves.”

“That’s right,” River told her. “Real thorns in their commander’s side. Rebels who play by their own rules.”

That sounded familiar. 

Dorian made a show of checking his gun. “Yeah, I’ve been suspended one time, retired two times, and kicked off the force three times. I’m gettin’ too old for this.” 

V quirked an eyebrow, nodding. “I’m glad you’re here with us, Lieutenant.”

“This city needs me,” he explained.

“Does it ever.”

River got them back on track, laying out the objective. “All we need to do is track down El Chamuco Endiablado and take out his lackeys along the way.”

“He’ll pay for his crimes,” Dorian said. 

“We’ll play as two teams, us and the kids, but we work towards the same objective. The team with the best result wins.” 

Monique glanced over at V, “You don’t stand a chance.”

V responded, “Oh, it’s _on,_ McClane _._ ” 

As the kids walked off with guns at the low-ready, River hung back with V and asked her to take it easy. She brushed it off, sure they could still overhear. “You really think I’ve never played with pros before? They beat me square every time.” She would’ve driven the subterfuge home with a wink if not for the goggles, but he caught on and guided her ahead with a hand on her back. 

“I’ll cover you,” he told her. She noted his grin as she ran to catch up with the Captain and Lieutenant. 

El Chamuco popped up as they reached the mouth between two trailers, spouting off kid-friendly, pre recorded lines. She wondered to herself if the NCPD had paid recruitment stipends to the game developer. River hovered over her shoulder as the kids began to shoot flip-boards of gangoons. 

She raised her gun and aimed a foot to the left of a few, her shots whizzing right past the targets. The kids shrieked with victory as the last fell and they moved on to the next objective. 

It was an ambush, holo-boards popping up behind River, who mimed firing a few rounds. Monique teased him when the last missed, “Too many donuts, Uncle River.”

V dissolved into laughter, unable to aim as her shoulders shook. 

The kids tore away to the next location, Monique talking about how she could smell the moral decay from there. V struggled to wipe her eyes with the goggles on. 

The game continued much the same, the kids throwing jabs at their uncle who took them in stride as V laughed. By the time they got to the final confrontation, Joss walked through a holo-board shouting that dinner was ready.

“But we almost had him,” Dorian whined.  
  
“You’ll get him next time," his mom said, "Table’s set.” 

He and Monique groaned and went to return their headsets, pleased that they at least beat the grown-ups. V took hers off, scrubbing her face with a forearm and catching her breath. “Oh my God,” she told River, “They’ve really got your number.”

River chuckled, reaching out to take her set. “I’m an easy target. Thanks for letting ‘em win.”

“They’re great kids,” she said. “But I couldn’t have popped off an accurate shot if I tried.”

“Mhmm. Seems they took a liking to you, too.” 

“Good taste."

River went to put the sets on the table as V slid into a seat to join his family. Joss was eyeing her like she had something to say, but waited until River joined them and began to eat. All was silent for several long minutes, spoons clinking and the kids chattering about their uncle's terrible aim.

V glanced at River, swallowing a bite. “You seem a lot more relaxed. Unemployment's treating you well.” 

Joss looked up from her food, “River’s rediscovering the joys of family life.” 

“That and police work is never a good mix. This here’s a good way to get some of that time back,” River said. 

“How about you, V?” Joss questioned. “Got any family?”  
  
V chewed thoughtfully before answering, “I’m in the habit of picking up strays, they’re my family.” 

“Well, you brought _my_ family back to me, and I’m grateful.”

V nodded at her, “Ever need anything, just call. I mean that.” 

She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, “Thanks. You know, my brother can’t seem to stop gushin’ about you.” 

“Joss-” River warned. 

She shot back, “Well, why hide it?” 

V nearly choked, clearing her throat behind a hand. She washed it down with some beer. Finally, she asked, “C’mon Joss, do I really seem like the wifey type?” She carefully watched River's expression in her periphery, but it didn't waver from vague amusement.

“Why not? You’re great with kids.”

Monique piped up around her mouthful, “Who thinks V and Uncle River make a good couple?” Dorian practically threw his spoon in haste to raise his hand.

V laughed, raising hers, too, “I do.” 

River regarded her with an expression that was hard to place before standing up, “Well, that’s decided.” He strode off, V looking over her shoulder after him. She placed her spoon down.

“Got an 11-99. Officer needs backup,” she told the kids, winking at Joss.

River was waiting on her several yards away, “C’mon, I’ll pull you out of this ambush.” She stood, grinning back at his sister before heading after him. It was several degrees colder after the sun set in the desert, lacking the insulation and closeness of the city. She filled her lungs with clean, cool air and sighed contentedly, folding her arms. River had proven himself to be quite the cook. Jambalaya was a heavy meal and she was positive she couldn’t have eaten another bite.

She caught up to him as they made their way up the path to a water tower enclosed in rusted gates. “Thanks for pulling my ass out of the fire.”

“That’s what partners are for,” he told her. 

“Partners, huh?” 

“You know what I mean.” He pulled on a latch, grumbling when the hinges of the gate refused to give way. After another futile attempt, he turned to her, eyes measuring her height and size. V wasn’t especially short, but she _was_ thin and he remembered what a featherweight she was from their first run together. “Lemme boost you over. Seems easier to open from the other side.”

“Why are we breaking into a water tower?” she asked, wanting an explanation before she let him toss her over a fence.

“For the view, of course.” His voice was thick with amusement. “Don’t like heights or somethin’, V?” 

She pursed her lips, considering, and relented with a, “You should know better than to think I’m scared of a damn thing.” In the streetlights overhead her silver hair looked almost white, stark against the bronze hue of her skin. She tossed it back, putting her hands on his shoulders and hopping up onto his offered forearm. He tried to be gentlemanly and not focus on the smooth, tattooed plane of her stomach as she did so, but ultimately failed, brushing her ribs with his free hand when she straightened to grope for a hold. His cold metal touch made her flinch. She hadn’t worn a jacket and was outfitted in a bustier top that left little to the imagination. Even so, it didn’t keep _his_ from running wild.

“Hey,” she chided. “No funny business.” 

“Just providing, eh, support,” he said lamely. She vibrated with laughter against his cheek. He lifted her up, missing the feel of her body as soon as she climbed over and landed with feline grace on the other side. 

“Okay, stand back, I don’t wanna hit you when I kick this door open.”

He did so, metal stopping a few inches from his face, and ducked around it to join her. “Up the ladder.” He began to climb first and V followed after. The platforms were decently far off the ground, the city coming into sharper focus the further up they went. 

When River reached the top, he offered her a hand to help her up onto the landing. She gratefully took it, unwilling to admit that her head was already light with vertigo. He pulled her up and made sure she was squarely planted before letting go. The wind whipped her hair around one shoulder and she turned to take in the scenery. Billboards stretched into the sky where haze blotted them out, buildings blacking out the last bit of purple sunset. From here, they couldn’t hear any of the city bustle. No sirens, no honking horns. It almost seemed peaceful.

“It’s gorgeous,” she murmured, turning in a slow circle to stare up at the first flickering stars of the evening. She gripped a post as she did so and River noted her knuckles blanch from the grip. 

“C’mon,” he told her, taking a seat on the ledge. She settled in carefully a moment later, grateful for a guard rail she could lean against. Her optics were taking on the same grainy quality they always did before a malfunction. 

She grunted and looped an arm around the bar while calculating whether or not she’d pitch forward when the chip really started acting up. Her weight was distributed alright, but it didn’t account for the variable of how her body would react when she lost control of it due to a coughing spell. “Bad time to say this,” she began apologetically. 

River interrupted her. “Scoot back.” His optics read her cortisol spike and he knew it wasn’t just from the height. He eased her back until she was laying flat, metal cold against her shoulders. “It happening again?”

V’s breath rushed out, frustrated. “Yep.” 

He hummed his sympathy. “Guess it’s been awhile since the last one?”

“Few days ago.” 

“These spells getting any worse?”

“Hard to say,” she managed, rolling her head to the side so she could look at him. He’d leaned down beside her on one forearm, other hand hovering, unsure of how to help. He settled it on her thigh and his grip was firm enough that she allowed herself to quit worrying about being so far up. “Thanks.” He nodded, watching her throw an arm over her eyes. Tension rippled through her body, following the pain that branched out from her nervous system like lightning. Her back arched and she grit her teeth with a curse. V's voice broke midway through the last syllable and she writhed, slapping a palm against the metal underneath her. Fighting her own body was the worst part. She hated feeling vulnerable in any situation, but in front of River, it was agony. 

He felt like this was something he shouldn’t be watching, so he focused instead on her vitals, recording heart rate and respiration. If anything, it was good information to pass on to Yawen when he messaged her back. The doctor had been intensely interested in the predicament, even going so far as to tell him that V had asked a few probing questions the day they’d broken into the lab. After they had left, Yawen read up on biochips just to sate her curiosity and bombarded him with a litany of findings and hypotheses. V had given him the green light to discuss her condition freely, so they had already begun to put out feelers to get her the help she needed. He’d been waiting for the right time to broach the topic and this seemed as good as any. After she pulled through it, though. 

V’s respiration began to even out over the next few minutes and she eventually moved her arm off her face. He was startled by the fear, then the _resignation_ he found in her expression as she gazed up at the stars. His grip on her thigh loosened and he smoothed his hand up to her hip reassuringly. 

“You alright?”

She blinked hard, focusing on him. A shaky breath deflated her chest and her throat clicked with a thick swallow. “I’ll be fine.” She moved to sit up, muttering how it wasn’t so bad when he stopped her.

“Give it a sec, okay?”

V indulged him, laying back down. “Those are in short supply, you know… seconds, I mean.”

“I wanna talk to you about something. This way you can just listen.”

A crease appeared between her eyebrows, "What is it?”

“I talked to Yawen a couple days ago. She had a lot to say, thinks she understands what’s happening- how it’s happening. Somethin’ about nanites.”

V laughed huskily, wincing. The pressure was abating, but she’d have to take it easy for a minute. “I coulda told you that.” 

“There was more, I just don’t speak Scientist. She wants to see you at the lab, run some tests.”

“At the… NCPD lab?” She struggled to follow.

"Nah, she’s got her own off-site.”

“River,” V began, and he allowed her to push up on her forearms due to the surprise dawning on her face. She brought her hands to the sides of his head, inching closer in excitement. “That’s incredible.” 

“I’m comin’ with you,” he told her, following her lead in sitting up. She might have protested to his presence while being poked and prodded like a labrat if he didn’t look so damned determined. Aftershocks were still hitting if her heart rate was any indication, but she was powering through, her only indication of pain in the periodic knitting of her brow. 

“I dunno what to say. Thank you.” She threw her arms around him. 

“Meant what I said,” he murmured against her ear, inhaling the scent of her hair. He folded her into a hug. They sat that way for a long moment, V eventually burying her face in his neck. 

Her reply was muffled into his skin, “You say lots of shit. Remind me?”

He chuckled, mostly pleased that her fight was returning, and pulled back to look her in the eyes. “That we’re gonna find a solution. You’re not alone in this.”

She smiled faintly, catching him by surprise when she ducked her head to carefully, slowly place a kiss at the corner of his mouth. It was tentative and soft as if she wasn’t sure how he’d react. River responded immediately, guiding her into another kiss with a hand on her jaw. He’d been thinking about this since telling her goodnight at her apartment and wouldn’t squander the opportunity. It started off chaste, just a brush of lips, and V sighed against his mouth before tilting her head to deepen it. She pressed her body into his and her short nails dragged down the back of his neck, sending a lick of heat down his spine. 

“Feels like I shoulda done that a while ago,” she finally said, pulling back to breathe. 

“Yeah, what took you so long?” he joked. That earned him a playful shove. 

She scooted back to the ledge but didn’t put her legs off the side, gesturing for him to join her. “We can make up for it later.”

He settled in next to her, unable to tear his eyes away even as she gazed out at the city. Her full lips were flushed and he was positive that her cheeks were, too, but it was hard to tell at that angle in the red light of the water tower. “So,” he cleared his throat. “V. What’s it stand for?”

Her answer came easier than anticipated. “Valerie.”

River tested out her name, “Valerie. That’s pretty, why don’t you like it?”

She glanced at him. Her cheeks were definitely ruddy, stoking his pride. “I like it just fine, but Valerie doesn’t command the proper respect for a merc of my stature.”

He grinned, “I guess it doesn’t. Does anyone actually call you by your real name?”

“You’re the only person above ground that knows it.”

“I’m… flattered.”

V made a pleased noise, leaning against his shoulder. Her hair felt like cool silk. “So what’d you bring me up here for, Riv? Somethin’ tells me it wasn’t to watch me short circuit and talk about Yawen’s research.”

“Not exactly,” he admitted. “But I was hoping you knew where I was going with this.”

“Which was?”

“You’re gonna make me say it, huh? That’s cold, even for a ‘merc of your stature’.”

She honest-to-God _giggled_ as she wrapped her arms around her knees, “Nut up, copper.”

“C’mon,” he groaned good-naturedly. “Don’t string me along.”

“Relax, I’m catching your drift. Just don’t fall in love with me.” 

When he didn’t play along for several moments, V straightened to look at him and found that he’d sobered considerably. He heaved a sigh, “Too late, Valerie. Too late.”

She processed his roundabout confession with wide eyes. He could see the depth of her irises in the half-light, noting that they were composed of a colorless glass lens that looked almost opalescent at an angle. She turned towards him and he barely caught her as she pressed into his chest, seizing his lips with a different, searing brand of a kiss from their first. He crushed her against him, responding eagerly to the kindled heat by sliding his tongue into her mouth. V stiffened for a moment and he thought that she might pull away, but she surprised him by guiding him away from the edge of the water tower and following with her body. She only broke the kiss for long enough to kick a leg over his waist and settle into his lap before meeting his lips once again. 

River couldn’t touch enough of her body at once and was frustrated that only one of his hands could feel the texture of her skin. She was pulled taut like a guitar string, her breath ragged with sudden need. Her fingers slipped between them and he stopped her before she could undo his belt.

“Hold on,” he grunted, dropping a kiss against her throat. “Here?” 

“I’m open to better ideas.” V sounded as impatient as he felt, but there were rough patches of rust digging into his back.

“I have a bed, y’know. Not as cold, or hard.”

She looked down at him, wetting her lips. Her pupils had nearly swallowed those strange irises. “Oh,” she said, almost sheepish. “Right. But the kids are inside?”

He checked the time, “Asleep by now.”

V rose to straighten her clothes and pull a hand through her mussed hair. “Lead the way, then.” 

He followed suit and made sure everything was buttoned up before heading down the ladder. It was a quick climb to the ground, River clearing the last few rungs by simply dropping down. V was more careful, which gave him a good look at her ass. She caught him staring and rasped a laugh. Together, they walked through the dark and back to the trailer. 

It was quiet and dark inside, even Joss having turned in for the night. River took her hand, leading her down the long hallway to the room where he’d been staying. They stepped inside and he engaged the lock before turning to sweep her into another kiss. The heat returned with a flare as he fitted V into the crook of his arm and guided her towards the bed, free hand fumbling at the eye hooks at the back of her shirt. 

“That’s gonna take forever,” she whispered against his lips, amused as he made a noise of exasperation. She pulled it over her head, hair sweeping, and hissed as he settled his hands on her chest. “Cold.” 

“Sorry,” he murmured a quick apology, ready to move his inorganic hand when she caught him and held it there.

“It’ll warm up,” she reassured. The backs of her knees met the corner of the mattress and she reluctantly broke the kiss to sit. She kicked her shoes off and helped him with his belt as he pulled his own shirt off. It was quick work. He stepped out of his clothes and boots and helped her work her own form-fitting pants down the athletic curve of her hips. 

After they were finally undressed, he let her trail her fingers down the middle of his abdomen. She raised her eyebrows and glanced up, evidently liking what she saw. He moved her up the mattress easily and braced himself on a forearm as he followed after. 

Her tattoos covered a lot more of her body than he’d anticipated, blacking out entire portions of her shoulders and ribcage where they branched out into smaller, more intricate designs that crept down her hips and up her neck. It was fine, detailed work that almost distracted him from the woman looping an arm around his neck to pull him back into another breathless kiss.

“Damnit, V,” he said in a low voice when she reached down and enclosed his obviously engorged length in one hand. Her touch was thorough and clever; she stroked him against herself, forcing him to feel exactly how ready she was. There would be time for tenderness later, he supposed, nipping her lower lip in protest before soothing it with his tongue. “Quit teasin’.”

“Teasing? _Me_?” She angled her hips, spreading her legs to accommodate him. He lowered himself and sank inside her slowly, the hand at the back of his neck becoming sharp as she flexed her nails against his skin. V felt like she was going to lock up underneath him, an inhale frozen in her throat. She let it out in a rush of a curse when he bottomed out and pressed his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for a couple of heartbeats, River ducking his head to kiss up her neck until he felt her finally relax. Instead of urging him into a rhythm, V pushed up on her elbows and redistributed her weight. There wasn’t a way to get on top without his help- he was much too heavy to push around- but he caught on and rolled, pulling her with him until she was seated in the divot of his hips. 

He let his head fall into the mattress, jaw working. She was incredibly tight and hot and _wet_ and it took self control that he wasn’t sure he had to let her ride him without thrusting upwards. If she didn’t start moving at least, he might lose his damn mind. 

She noticed his throat bob with a hard swallow and smirked. She finally began to work her hips in an easy rhythm. He felt so fucking good, filling her completely, and the hands on her waist kept her from pulling away too far. It was a slow, deep grind that hit _just_ right. 

Normally, V fucked like she was running a race, just wanting to get off and get out- but with River, she could’ve spent all night coaxing those sounds from deep in his chest with each roll of her hips. His gaze raked a trail of heat down her chest and he brought his organic hand up to cup one breast, thumbing her tattooed nipple before dragging down her ribs, over her stomach. It settled there, pressing her back into an angle that made her gasp. 

He grinned, entirely smug about it. She responded by picking up the pace and riding him harder. He couldn’t help the strained groan that tore out of his throat. V shushed him, clapping a hand over his mouth without breaking rhythm. The look on his face fed the building tension in her core and she chased it with a toss of her hair. 

Before she could reach it, he pried her hand off of his mouth and brought her closer to murmur ‘easy’ in her ear. He rolled her back under him, grinding back up to the rhythm she’d set as he nosed her head to the side. His lips were soft on her neck, affectionate in a way that V couldn’t remember ever being on the receiving end of. He threaded the fingers of his free hand into hers and pushed it up into the pillows. River kissed her again. Her senses were filled with him, his touch and taste and smell, and she knew she was about to come apart. He felt it too, thrusts becoming progressively more ragged. 

V whimpered curses against his mouth, one more thrust breaking the tension. She arched her back and he fucked her gently through her orgasm, easing her out of it even as his own stole his breath. He bit the inside of his cheek to temper the groan as he came inside of her. She watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, chest rising and shallowly falling, and touched his cheek to bring him back out of the fog. River put his hand over hers with a drawn out, hitching exhale. She was nothing short of gorgeous even when thoroughly spent. 

He collapsed on his side and pulled V with him, an arm between her and the mattress. She curled into him wordlessly with a leg draped over his waist. As their eyes met, she couldn’t help the slow spread of a smile across her face. She began to laugh as softly as she could manage and River quirked an eyebrow at her.

“What?” he whispered. 

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” But she couldn’t stop laughing, wiping away tears of effort. He squeezed her, clearly amused, and she finally told him what was on her mind: “I fucked the police.”

River snorted, utterly unable to maintain composure as they both laughed. “Shh-” He got his chuckling under control long enough to kiss her temple, chest shaking in the fight to stay quiet. “ _Yeah_ , you did.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some fluff before major plot points in the next chapter.

**08:22 14 Jan 2077**

  
  
V stirred from sleep to distant humming and the sound and smell of coffee brewing. The bed beside her was empty, just a fold of rumpled sheets beneath her searching hand and she realized that River must already be up. She checked the time with a languid stretch as she smothered a yawn into the pillow. 

“I’m ashamed of you.”

Johnny was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. 

_ Hm? What for? _ She wasn’t above playing dumb, especially when it came to irritating Silverhand. 

He shot her a disapproving glare, thumbing his sunglasses further up on the bridge of his nose. “Makin’ me fuck a cop. C’mon, V. You’re better than that.”

_ Better quit while you’re ahead, I could swing a round three.  _ She sat up and shed blankets while smiling to herself as she recalled being roused sometime in the early hours to River’s lips against her ear. That second time was even slower than the first, deliciously tender and careful, all hands and lips and the unhurried rolling of muscles. He’d touched her with reverence surprising for a man of his size, like he was expecting her to shatter beneath him, and V couldn’t deceive herself: she liked being treated like some precious, breakable thing despite the lethality inherent in all of her chrome. 

Johnny made a noise of disgust, privy to her thoughts. “Alright, that’s enough. I’m out.” He walked away into static. 

V experienced a shock of victory and pumped a fist before she rose to pull on a pair of pants. River had already wrapped her in a flannel so she could steal down the hallway to the bathroom, so she kept it on, tucking one tail in at the waist. She padded down the hall to the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to him with a content, “G’mornin’.”

“Hey,” he greeted her as he pulled mugs out of the cupboard. “You sleep like the dead, anyone ever tell you that?”

She rolled her neck. “Nobody’s seen me sleep in a while, so, nope.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Nobody? Really?”

“Don’t look at me like that. Been too busy for hookups lately.”

He poured her a cup and pressed it into her hands before leaning beside her. “I wasn’t judgin’, just surprised is all.”

V savored her first sip, breathing in the steam. She didn’t have anything clever to hit him with before the caffeine hit, so she served up a feeble shrug instead.

“So… about last night.” River chose his words between mouthfuls of coffee. “This goin’ anywhere?”

“Anywhere _ official _ , you mean?”

“Yeah.”

V hid her smile with another sip before turning the mug around in her hands thoughtfully. “I was kinda hoping it would,” she confessed, cunning creeping into her tone as she continued. “Bein’ that you’re in love with me.”

He wet his lips, fighting a grin as he looked away. “You _ are _ letting it go to your head. I knew this would happen.”

“So how about it, River? You wanna be my boyfriend or what?”

He set his coffee down, sidling up to put his arms around her. “Course, gotta lock down a hot commodity.” 

She rested a hand on his chest, wrinkling her nose, “Oh, is that why? In that case…”

River stopped her with a kiss, rumbling a chuckle beneath her touch. “Glad to see that you roll out of bed with a smart mouth.”

“You  _ love _ my smart mouth.”

They were so embroiled in their banter that neither heard Joss approach. She cleared her throat to make them aware of her presence before greeting them with a cheerful, “Good morning! Not interrupting, I hope?”  
  
River released V and looked at his sister over one shoulder. “Mornin’ Joss. Coffee’s ready.”

V didn’t do embarrassment. She gave Joss a casual wave and enjoyed her coffee as the siblings discussed a broken generator that needed to be fixed. Randy was evidently cleared to return home, which had sent Joss into a flurry of nervous activity readying for his arrival. River had volunteered to help, and she’d come to collect on that offer.

He looked down at V, “Sorry about this, duty calls.” 

“No apologies necessary, tell Randy hey for me.”

“One more thing,” Joss said, “I just got off the line with the hospital. Randy’s stay has been paid in full. Either one of you happen to know anything about that?”

River shrugged, but eyed V, who mimicked him with a “wasn’t me”. It  _ was _ her, though, and she’d never fess up. She’d had several hours to burn before the cookout and an account flush with eddies. There hadn’t been a reason  _ not _ to help out. Joss dropped it and told River she’d be waiting at Randy’s trailer for him, leaving them standing alone in the kitchen once again.

“Interesting timing for a mysterious benefactor to crop up,” River thought aloud. She followed him to the bedroom and they both began to get dressed. 

“Maybe the police union scraped together funds for the bill.”

He shook his head after pulling a shirt over it. “Nah, it’d be all over the news. The brass is always jonesing for good press.”

“I dunno what to tell you.” She set her cup down to unbutton his flannel and let it fall off, reaching for her top. The athleticism of her body was hard to miss. Lean muscles on the sides of her abdomen rolled, entirely at odds with the ample curves of her breasts.

“Mhm.” River sat down on the bed to lace his boots, watching her with interest. “So what’s on the merc docket today?”

V paused to check her messages while threading her hair into a loose braid over one shoulder. “Got a quick gig, dinner with Misty... then I gotta go home and plead with the cat to forgive me for being gone so long.”

“Sounds like a full schedule,” he said, standing. She met him halfway between the door and the bed and stood on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. Stubble rasped beneath her lips. 

“I’ll come by to see Randy whenever he’s ready for visitors. Just lemme know when.” 

“I will.” He smoothed a few strands of hair out of her eyes. 

She remembered something, fumbling her keys out of her pocket. They jingled as she threaded one through the ring and she pressed it into his palm. “Here,” she said, “Whenever you need a break, dinner, whatever… come see me.”

River stared down at it, touched. His relationship with V up until that point had felt like a hot pursuit, maybe even a pipe dream, and she had no way of knowing what a simple gesture like giving him a spare key to her place meant to him. He closed his fingers around it, meeting her eyes. She was studying him patiently. 

“Sure this isn’t gonna cramp your style?” he asked.

There wasn’t a trace of mischief in her expression when she answered earnestly, “Style be damned. It’d be nice to come home to something other than an empty apartment.” Her voice had taken on a gravelly quality in its solemnity. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “C’mon, you’re making me nervous. Did I overstep?”

“No,” he laughed, and something shot through her features that he sought to soothe. “No, you didn’t overstep. Thank you, V. This means a lot to me.”

“Aw,” she cooed, straightening a wrinkle in his shirt. “I get it. You’re speechless.”

“There she is. Thought I’d lost you there for a second.” He guided her out of the room with a hand on her back and they walked together through the trailer and down the stairs into the sunlight. Joss shouted from across the yard for him to hurry up, the kids tearing past a moment later.

“V! Randy’s coming home!” Monique wove between her and River, stopping in front of them. 

“I heard,” V said. “You gonna take good care of him?” 

It was Dorian who answered: “Yeah! We already cleaned up his room an-”

“We folded all his clothes,” Monique interrupted. She noticed the keys in V’s hand. “Are you leaving?”

River squeezed V’s shoulder before letting her go. “She’ll come back to visit, but for now, she’s got some stuff to do in the city. And  _ we _ need to get that generator up and running- can you guys help me find my tools?”

V watched the kids converge on River, each giving their best guess on where he’d left the toolbox. He gave her a nod of goodbye over his shoulder as they walked off, which she returned with a small smile. Jackie’s Arch was still parked by the Thorton on the gravel road and she took her time heading over to it, scuffing dust up as she walked. The day was unseasonably warm and windy, a drift of stormclouds rolling on the horizon. She’d have to gun it to beat the rain. 

She perched on the seat and slipped her sunglasses out of the saddlebag, settling them on the bridge of her nose before switching on the ignition. The bike roared to life and she rode out of the trailer park feeling lighter that she had in some time.


	7. Chapter 7

**15:10 16 Jan 2077**

  
  
V was kicked back at the patio table at some high-dollar deli when Takemura appeared. He took her in while choosing his own seat: she wore a baseball cap pulled over her eyes and her silver hair was fixed in a sloppy knot hanging out the back. A cigarette dangled from the fingers of one hand and she smoked it at her leisure between sips of a frosty beer. She noticed him sit across from her and pushed her hat back with a bright smile.

“Hey, Goro! Glad ya made it. Their stout is fuckin’... aces.”

“Aces,” he repeated, clearly not understanding.

“Means it’s really good, maybe even the best.”

He made a contemplative sound, “It is too early to drink.” 

“Suit yourself.”

His silver eyes sharpened on her, “Where have you been?”

“Around. What does it matter? I’m here now.” She took a sip of her beer, shaking her head in disbelief that, of all places, a corpo district  _ deli  _ had such a bomb stout on tap. “Anyway, not much we can do until the parade. Figured inviting you to a late lunch might make you feel like you’ve got tabs on me and you’d quit sending cryptic text messages.”

“They are not  _ cryptic _ ,” he argued, “You simply do not take the time to try and understand.”

She pretended like she hadn’t been listening and filtered smoke through her nose. “Sorry, what was that?” 

He waved her off, realizing she was fucking with him. “I should have left you in that dump.”

“You don’t mean that, Goro, we’re friends. What’re you having?” V put out her cigarette while pulling up a menu. 

Takemura grunted. “Your flippant attitude does you no favors.” He reached over and tapped his selection before settling back into his chair and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. V didn’t know how he managed to starch and press his outfits out of whatever roach motel he was staying in that week, but he always looked the same: polished right down to his cufflinks.

V swiped in her own order and allowed a tense silence to settle over the table. She hadn’t pitched her ask to Takemura yet, and it was a _ big _ one. Their orders arrived and they ate quietly. He wasn’t great at small talk unless it was to express disapproval and V had made it clear that she wasn’t going to entertain any rain on her parade.

Finally, between bites, V broached the subject. “Still got whereabouts on Hellman?” she asked casually, like she was talking about the time or the weather. 

“Why? You already have the blueprints for the relic. What do you need him for?”

She took a long pull of her beer before launching into an explanation. Her retelling of meeting Doctor Yawen Packard was careful not to give too many identifying details about River or his family members. She focused mostly on the neuroscientist angle and how helpful an engineer’s input might be when mapping out her neural net to untangle it from Johnny’s. Takemura listened intently, folding his hands in his lap.

“You think that Arasaka cannot fix you?” 

V shook her head, “Cannot, no.  _ Will  _ not- yes. I’m a nobody to the corp, Goro. What do they care if I live or die?” He opened his mouth to protest and she interrupted, “I’m still gonna help you with Hanako because I said I would.”

He shut his mouth again, looking away. Finally, he said, “Yes, I know where Hellman is. Do you really think that you can trust him?”

She chuckled into her beer, “Fuck no, I don’t. You saw how keen he was on having Silverhand’s engram preserved.” V took another bite. “Nah, having a doc on deck should keep him honest.”

Takemura drummed his fingers on the table. “This is not a good idea.”   
  
“Just tell me you’re gonna help me get my hands on Hellman and I’ll take care of the rest.”

He nodded reluctantly, pushing his plate back. “I will help you.” 

“Preem. I’ll call you when I need to collect him.” She transferred eddies to settle the bill and rose, “Be in touch.”

“V, wait!”

She shuffled to a stop, tossing a look over her shoulder. 

“Be careful, I cannot infiltrate the parade alone.”

“‘Course, Goro.” She flashed a smile and continued on her way, pulling up her list of contacts as she strode out of the plaza. She’d missed a few pings on the police scanner while she’d been talking to Takemura and decided that the badges were on their own for a bit. The jobs paid decent enough and sometimes sifted out worthwhile intel, but she’d spent most of her morning running down a netrunner for Wakako- a job that could have quickly gone south thanks to the Tyger Claw presence in the building- and she was looking forward to a hot shower and a good look at a fresh graze on her ribs. 

The stouts and stims had done a fantastic patch job on the pain radiating from underneath her jacket, but now that she was up and walking, it began to sting. Jackie’s Arch was right where she left it and she kicked a leg over. Producing her aviators from the saddlebag, she slid them on and revved towards Watson.

  
  


**17:52**

  
  


V dumped her keys on the desk and sidestepped her purring cat, dropping a trail of clothes to the floor on her way to the shower. She’d slapped a gauze square on her ribs that was now saturated with blood and fell away the moment she pulled her shirt over her head. There was a red crease in the pile of clothes she’d discarded. 

“Couldn’t you have taken care of that before stopping to chitchat with the corpo?” Johnny’s question was rather sharp, indicating that he felt it, too. He’d been hovering in her periphery all through the meal, so it was no surprise that he’d crop up the second she got home. 

“I was already in the neighborhood, no sense in coming home for a flesh wound,” she explained, touching her broken skin gingerly. It was still seeping. “Guess it was deeper than I thought.”

“No shit,” was all Johnny had to say. He crouched down to get a look at Nibbles, seeming like he wanted to reach out and stroke the cat as it rolled onto its side. V produced her med kit from beneath the bathroom sink and laid out some packaged bandages before tearing open an alcohol square. 

_ Goddamnit, _ she thought as she dabbed the wound. _ That won’t be enough _ .

“Where’d you learn first aid? Summer camp?” Johnny stood and swaggered over.

“Like you know jack shit about it,” she scoffed, wincing as she dabbed another alcohol square against her ribs. Her fingers came back slick with blood. 

“Use some vodka, if you’ve got any. Then you’re gonna want to stitch it shut.” 

“I’ve got, uh, butterfly stitches,” she read off of a package. 

“Those are for scratches, not bullet holes.”

“It just glanced me.” She turned so he could see it better, forgetting that he had the vantage point of her own perspective, before heading to the kitchen and sorting through her freezer to find a bottle of vodka. 

Johnny shrugged, “You could just tape it up and hope for the best. But, I’m not a doctor.”

V brought the vodka with her to the bathroom and kicked off her pants. Standing over the shower drain, she uncapped the bottle and poured it over her ribs. “Fuck!” she shrieked as the cold liquid hit the graze. She’d been stung by a scorpion as a kid running barefoot through camp and remembered the intense, stabbing pain as more than comparable. 

“Or was it soap and water that you should clean it with?”

Johnny’s question made her grit her teeth. If he’d been solid, she would have relished in throwing the bottle at his smug face. She swallowed her anger down with a couple swigs of vodka and turned the shower on. It was quick work to scrub the grit of sweat and blood away and she pulled a handful of conditioner through her hair, thinking about how nice it would feel to shrug on some loose clothes and collapse onto the couch for the remainder of the evening.

After returning from River’s, her check-in with Misty had become a several hours long affair of tarot readings and conversations about how Mama Welles was trying to distract herself from the pain of losing Jackie by doting on his grieving girlfriend. V was always happy to lend an ear and as much time as Misty needed, but the late nights were starting to wear on her. The following evening had been a bust on the relaxation front as well. She’d helped Judy infiltrate Clouds and returned home in the early hours, collapsing into bed still smelling like carbon.

As soon as V felt acceptably clean, she switched off the shower and studied the wound. It was still oozing, but not as quickly as before. The bike ride must have aggravated the clotting process. She reached for a towel and wrapped it gingerly around her midsection before padding out to find something to wear. 

Johnny was waiting, of course, with a shit-eating grin. “Feel better?” he asked. 

“What do you think?” she snapped, carefully bending to collect a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt from the laundry basket. She headed back to the bathroom sink and applied a fresh bandage before pulling on her clothes. As she knotted the drawstring of the hoodie at the hollow of her throat, she received a text from River.

> Hey V, you home?

“Tell him no,” Johnny said from across the room. She glared at him, firing off a text.

>> Yep. You in the neighborhood? Could use some company.

> As it happens, yeah. Be up in ten?

>> Can’t wait :) Let yourself in, I’ll be on the couch.

She’d last heard from River the night before when he’d sent a picture of Randy in bed playing his guitar. The kid looked miles better than he had that night at Edgewood: his color was back and he even had a small smile on his face as he fingered the chords. V had sent back a quick selfie with Judy paired with a “glad you’re on the mend, kiddo” message.

She worked a brush through her hair and switched on the TV, toting her bottle of vodka with her to the living room. Carefully, she sank into the cushions and pulled her legs up to lay flat, holding the bandage down with her free hand as she settled in. A quick check revealed that the bleeding had mostly stopped and just a few dots of bloody discharge pinkened the bandage. She took a generous swig of vodka before placing it on the table. 

“At least I won’t have to watch you fuck tonight thanks to whichever ‘claw had decent aim,” Johnny mused, perching on the arm of the couch behind her head.

“Like I haven’t sat through your memories of boning Alt. Turnabout’s fair play.”

“Shit, you saw that?” He didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry if I ruined all other men for you.”

“You’re fuckin’ full of yourself, man,” V retorted lazily. There was a single knock before the lock to her apartment disengaged and River stepped inside. 

“Hey, babe,” he greeted her, shutting the door behind himself. 

“Babe,” she mused aloud, “I like how that sounds.” Johnny walked away, fading into a wall as River rounded the corner into the living room. He had a bag of takeout in the crook of one arm and his jacket in the other, the latter of which he draped over the couch as he approached. 

“Brought dinner,” he said, leaning down to stroke her damp hair back from her forehead and press a kiss in its place. “There’s a great Indian place on the way, thought you’d like it.”

“Smells good,” she answered, craning her neck to catch him by the shirt and drag him back down for a second kiss. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she’d eaten just hours before. He tasted like spearmint and smelled incredible, the best combination of cologne and leather and coffee and  _ River _ . As he pulled back, she let her hand linger on the back of his head. “Don’t tell me you came all this way just for me.”

He smiled with a shrug of one shoulder. “Would’ve, but I actually was in City Center on business.” 

“Oh?” She moved to sit up, concealing how much it hurt. 

“First independent job.” He looked excited, and V watched him produce a few boxes and utensils from the bag. “Not exactly glamorous work, but cases’ll get better. Now that Randy’s back home, I’ll have more time to advertise my services.”

“Lemme guess. Cheating spouse?”

“Better. One more guess.”

“ _ Murdered _ spouse.” She took a container when he passed it to her. 

He chuckled as he sat down, “Missing employee. Disappeared with a shipment of expensive tech.”

“Damn. Not bad for a first case. Any leads?”

“Not yet, just gathering intel.” He eyed her as he took a bite. “You look comfortable. Kinda sorry I missed the shower.” 

She bit the corner off a samosa, talking around her mouthful. “It was uneventful, if that makes you feel better.” 

“I coulda fixed that.”    
  
V smirked, rallying against her body’s response to the heat in his voice. “I don’t doubt it.” 

“What’s with the straight vodka? Long day?” He nodded at the bottle on the table.

She glanced at it, back at him, and set her fork back in the box. “Well, fuck, gumshoe. Guess you’d figure it out eventually, but I got clipped by a Tyger Claw on a gig.” Before the expression on his face could dip further into alarm, she amended, “It’s just a graze, but it still doesn’t feel fantastic.”

River looked her over, “Where’d they get you?”

She pulled up her sweater to show him her thankfully still-dry bandage, “It’s just a flesh wound.”

He smothered a sigh in another bite of curry and chewed to prevent himself from saying anything rash. When he swallowed, the words were still there. “I guess it’s pointless to tell you to be careful.”

“If you think this is bad, you should see the other guys.”

That earned her a tension-dispelling laugh that she was eager to share, even if it made her wince. He set his food down and moved closer on the couch so that she could lean against him. His voice rumbled beneath her cheek as he broached another subject, “So I was thinkin’ we should go see Yawen in the morning, if you aren’t busy.” 

“Mm. So you came with food _ and _ an agenda.” 

“Figured it’d sweeten the pot.” He draped an arm around her shoulder, tugging at her knotted drawstring affectionately. “I’ll drive ya, stick around to make sure she doesn’t do anything too invasive, have you back by noon?”

V nodded, finishing off another samosa and setting the container down. “Deal. Wanted to tell you… I enlisted some help for the doc whenever shit starts getting real.” He waited patiently for her to explain, and she did. She told him about Anders Hellman and his involvement in the relic prototypes, sure not to leave anything out about his defection from Arasaka and fascination with Silverhand’s engram in particular. 

“So, long story short, we’re gonna have to keep an eye on him,” River summarized.

“Pretty much. And I’ve got the biochip blueprints, too, just in case he proves… ineffective.”

“Good thinking.” River smoothed a hand down her arm, pensive. “Yawen wants to run stress tests first, figure out how progressed your-” he searched for a word that wouldn’t sound insensitive- “condition is.”

V didn’t have anything in her arsenal to make the situation sound any less dire than it was. With a shallow sigh, she stretched her legs out and eased her upper body into his lap, pulling a pillow beneath her head so she could look up into his face. He, too, was weighed down by the solemn turn in conversation. His brow was creased, mouth fixed in a frown that she sought to soothe. Her question was quiet: “I think we’ve got a good shot, don’t you?”

His mouth turned up at one corner in an attempt to smile. “It’s already more than we started out with.”

“You know, I wouldn’t blame you if this was too much.” V voiced one of her more pressing fears, dressing it up as tough as she could. It was a thin veneer over a pervasive worry, one that she was positive he’d pick up on.

“Stop,” he told her seriously. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

V messed with his necklace, not wanting to look him in the eye. “I’m just sayin’, you’ve got enough goin’ on at home without piling on more.” 

“I’m grateful I’ve got _ anything _ going on at home, Ms. Mysterious Benefactor.” She did look at him then, and he grinned. “That’s right, I found you out. Got the time of donation and pulled a few strings, imagine my surprise when I heard your voice on the other end of that recorded line.”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled, “Mhm. Tell you what: I don’t mention it ever again as long as you don’t keep tryin’ to hand me an out.”

“I believe that qualifies as blackmail, detective.”

River shrugged, “Guess I learned somethin’ from the rest of those crooked badges.”

V laughed- her usual, genuine, raspy laugh- and nestled her head against his arm. She was, as always, immensely grateful for his penchant for lightening the mood. “Alright, you’ve bought my silence.”

“What’s a kiss cost?”

She dragged herself upright and looped her arms around his neck. Her colorless eyes drank him in and she dipped her head to drag the tip of her nose against his. “Not a damn thing.” She pressed her lips to his tenderly, enjoying the warmth and comfort he provided and deepening the kiss when his hands smoothed up her back to fold her against him. He was careful not to pull her bandage and she could feel the restraint behind each touch and movement. Someday soon, she hoped, she’d be free of everything that made him hesitate. 


	8. Chapter 8

**06:00 17 Jan 2077**

  
  


V roused to the vibrating of her alarm and immediately wanted to fall back asleep. It was still dark in her apartment, only slivers of navy sky visible between the slats in the metal blinds, and she was lying on her side pressed against River. One of his arms was looped around her shoulders and her cheek rested in the hollow of his neck. She vaguely remembered falling asleep that way after he crawled into bed after showering, mumbling a joke about how her soap made him smell beautiful. V smiled at the recollection, content to nestle into his skin and enjoy a few more minutes of peace while the city still slept. 

But Johnny had other ideas.

“Get up,” he grunted from where his figure shivered in on the couch. “Time to go see the doc.”

_ No _ .

“I don’t wanna wake up in your body beside the cop, which is what’s gonna happen eventually if you keep draggin’ your feet.”

_ Goddamnit _ , she mentally growled, knowing he was right. V put an elbow underneath herself, leveraging her weight to get up, but River moved his arm to catch her by the waist. The pressure against her wound was enough to make her hiss in a breath.

“Shit, sorry,” he murmured. His voice was drowsy and thick as he turned his head, “Half asleep.”

“S’alright, I’ve got other ribs.”

He straightened his arm so V could drag herself out of bed, eyeing her as she contorted in a stretch that hitched up the front of her sweater. Sitting up and rubbing his face, he gestured for her to move closer so that he could check her dressing, “How’s it look this morning?”

“You tell me.”

River moved the fabric away and hummed, pleased. “Still dry.”    
  
“Preem, didn’t feel like changing it.”

“And you shouldn’t until tomorrow night, not unless it bleeds through.”

V was struck with the obvious realization that River would know a fair bit about first aid, being that it was part of NCPD training. Even so, she would have hesitated to call and burden him with a superficial wound. No- if it ever got to the point where she needed immediate medical assistance, the point would be moot. Vik was just around the corner and he was accustomed to patching her up every now and then. “Careful, River. I could get used to this.” 

“Not making a good case for my bein’ careful then, are you?”

She bit her lip as his hands glided up to her back beneath her sweater, trying to tamp down the stupid grin she felt welling up. She’d never been one to make doe eyes at anyone. Her handful of previous relationships had been intense and violent, contests of wills that left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Disparately, River seemed well equipped to handle her aggressive individualism, even _ enjoying _ when her rough edges flared. Whether they entertained him as a novelty or it was true acceptance would be a dilemma best sorted out by time. For now, she was content to revel in it. “Guess not.”

He seemed to deflate as he checked the time, releasing her with noted hesitation. “We’d better get moving.” 

V was already crossing the room to the closet. “You’re the one still in bed.”

River began to straighten the sheets as she pulled on her clothes, freezing in her periphery when he discovered the cat nestled beneath the coverlet. “Hey, cat,” he told Nibbles, perplexed. Like so many other Night City residents, he didn’t seem to know what to do with a live animal in the way of progress. 

“Just pick him up,” V said, amused, shrugging into her leather jacket. 

“He’ll let me do that?”

She laughed and went to scoop up the cat so that River could finish folding the sheets with military efficiency. “He’s pretty docile for a stray. Think he likes the abundance of food and laundry to sleep in.” 

River finished his task and appraised the cat, scratching lightly between its ears. “Not sure he qualifies as a stray anymore, then. He got a name?”  
  
“Nibbles.” The hairless creature in her arms vibrated with pleasure at all of the attention, blinking pale green eyes at River.

“A dignified name for a dignified animal,” he said with a serious nod before smirking at V and moving to collect his own clothing.

“He doesn’t take kindly to mockery,” V protested, depositing Nibbles onto the floor. As River got ready, she filled the cat bowl and fished a couple of protein bars out of the cabinet. She regretted not having a coffee maker in the apartment, but with the Brooklyn Barista across the street, there had never been a real need to brew her own.

As River rounded the corner into the kitchen fully dressed, she tossed him his breakfast. “We’ll have to grab a coffee on the way out, m’afraid.”

He caught it with a quirk of his brow. “Sounds good. Ready to roll?”

“Yep.” She brushed past him and to the door, collecting her keys to stuff in her pocket before they stepped into the hall. The megabuilding was a graveyard so early in the morning. The corridors were empty of everything but trash and blinking vending machines, even the elevator vacant as newsreels scrolled on loop. She tapped her foot as she waited for it to reach ground level, impatient for a cigarette. The craving was damned loud compared to how quiet Johnny was being. She supposed that he had to make his presence known one way or the other.

“Nervous?” River asked, noticing her fidgeting.

“My stowaway is jonesing for a smoke.”

He ran a hand over his buzzed head, hooking it on the back of his neck. “Tell him that he doesn’t need to kill you twice.”

“I  _ have _ told him,” V laughed. “Doesn’t make the cravings any less potent.”

The gates swung open and they walked together to the front of the building. She produced a cigarette from her pocket and lit up as they strode out into the early light of dawn. River was parked in front of the NCPD station and when V looked at him questioningly, he tapped the decal that was still on the back of his truck. 

“They can’t run every tag,” he said. “Stay here, enjoy your cig. I’ll go grab the coffee.”

“Twist my arm, why don’t you.” V grinned at him, smoke curling from her nose when he walked away. It had to be a hell of a curve getting used to the idea of his girlfriend having a long-dead rocker residing in her synapses. She leaned against the Thorton, retreating to her thoughts of the tests that awaited her at the lab. Ever since waking up in Vik’s office with the chip in her head, she dreaded doctors. They reminded her of mortality in a way that she wasn’t ready to cope with. 

She flicked ash, glancing over at the station as a couple of badges walked past. The cops were immersed in their own discussion and luckily ignored her. Now that V had reached a certain level of notoriety, she had to exercise the same caution around the NCPD that she had to apply to her interactions with gangoons. Everyone seemed to want a bite of her. 

River returned after she’d finished her cigarette, the Thorton unlocking at her back. 

“C’mon,” he called to her as he hopped into the driver’s side. She followed and settled in her seat, then took a coffee from him gratefully. As the Thorton’s engine started, he paused to study her. “Sure you’re alright?”

She’d really have to stop trying to slip things by him. His fluency in body language meant that her rigid spine and forcibly neutral expression was broadcasting a different story from her insistence that she was fine. V sipped her coffee with a shrug and nudged her sunglasses onto her nose. Finally, she answered, “As good as can be expected.” 

He reversed out of the parking space and switched into gear, merging onto the main road. “That’s fair,” he told her, then eased into an adjacent subject. “So what does Silverhand think of bein’ a captive audience to our relationship?”

A corner of V’s mouth pulled. “He’s got a lot of opinions, none of which I asked for.”

“Opinions, huh? That’s intimidating.” River had tried to wrap his head around the fact that they had an audience before, but it was easier to pretend that Johnny was checked out for all of their more private moments. He concluded that V’s viewpoint was the only one that mattered. Still, having a voyeur would take some getting used to- and he hoped that before he reached acceptance, Johnny would be a problem long taken care of.

V drank her coffee in nervous silence, staring out the window. Every time he looked over, it seemed she’d moved an inch or two, settling into a new position. She didn’t exactly transmit what she was thinking- not like some of the perps he’d grilled- but he was beginning to catch onto her idiosyncrasies and compile a baseline. Her blanched knuckles around her knee were an obvious tell. She tossed her hair, still mussed from sleep, and caught him looking. 

“I’m alright, Riv. Really.” 

He decided to let her think he believed her, changing the subject. “Ever been anywhere ‘sides California?”

V chewed her thumbnail: another tell. “Yeah, all over. Bakkers never stayed put for too long, not ‘til they sold out.”

“Oh yeah? Whereabouts?”

“Montana, Wyoming, the Dakotas… beautiful up there. Less sand.”

“Anywhere you’d wanna see again?”

Her response was somewhere between a hum and a sigh, easily the most wistful noise he’d ever heard her make. “I’d… I wanna see it all again. The mountains, the plains, the lakes. Yeah, all of it.” She glanced at him, “How about you? Ever wanted to just hit the road and never look back?”

He considered her question, factoring in all the variables. Aside from his family, he had nothing keeping him rooted to Night City anymore. “Thought about it, sure. Picking up and takin’ off. Joss would be a hard sell, though.”

“It’s a dreamy thought though, ain’t it? Drivin’ til you can see every star in the sky?” 

“When you put it like that… yeah, it is.” She seemed to be relaxing finally, taken by whatever memories the conversation had brought to the surface. He broke the spell by asking, “When you get the chip out- think you’ll hit the road again?”

V propped her sunglasses on the top of her head before looking back over. “Maybe, but… I dunno. Hard to look that far ahead. ‘Sides, I’ve stomped a hole in this city that only my size eights can fill.” It was true, but that wasn’t the half of it. She had a network of people she’d grown to care for as fiercely as any of her nomad bonds. Misty, Mama Welles, Judy, Vik, Panam- she focused on River’s profile, understanding that he and his family were on that list, too. She opened her mouth to say so, but he’d angled into a parking spot and shut off the truck.

“Here we are.” 

She peered out of the windshield, taking in a stretch of office buildings when she had a thought. “You’ve been distracting me this whole time,” she realized out loud. River flashed a smile and got out. 

“Worked, didn’t it?” he asked her as she caught up. She followed him to a nondescript glass door and watched him knock twice.

“Every time I think you’re fresh out of cards, you pull another ace outta your sleeve,” V told him. She threw her head back to finish her coffee as Yawen answered the door. The doc wasn’t wearing her goggles and V hardly recognized the willowy asian woman with large brown eyes. 

“You’re late,” the doc told River before smiling clinically at V. “Come in.”

Dr. Packard’s lab doubled as an office in the front room, lined with filing cabinets and computers. V could see equipment behind double doors further in and heard the low humming of machinery. It smelled sterile, like a hospital. She felt like her skin was too small all of a sudden. 

“V?” River touched her shoulder. Someone had asked her a question and she’d missed it entirely due to the blood rushing in her ears. 

“Sorry. What?”

“Yawen asked when the relic last malfunctioned.”

V wet her lips, “Actually, feel like it’s about to. Last time was, uh, four days ago on the water tower.”

The doc nodded, “Any increase in frequency? Do they seem to correlate with high stress environments?”

“For sure, yeah.”

“How about in response to physical stimulus? Pain, exertion?”

The questions kept coming and Yawen listened intently to every answer as she guided V to an exam chair in that back room. She then donned a pair of gloves and tapped a computer awake, bringing up an interface that V didn’t recognize. There definitely seemed to be a correlation between cortisol spikes and malfunctions and Yawen explained that she wasn’t surprised. In between scientific jargon, V caught on to the hypothesis that the chip ‘metabolized’ more quickly under duress. That meant that with each shock to her system, it was gaining more ground over her neural net. Hellman had said something about her being unable to function independently of the relic due to the degradation, but she’d hoped he was bluffing- or mistaken.

Yawen jacked her into the computer and pulled up a stool while River leaned in the doorway. Johnny glitched in on the opposite end of the frame and V tried not to look amused at the absurd set of bookends they made.

“So, let me get this straight,” Johnny said, “She’s gonna try and short you out to observe how the chip behaves, which might do  _ more  _ damage? Grand fuckin’ idea.”

V stared down at her hands, all too aware of the plug in the back of her neck. _ If it helps, it helps. _

“And if it doesn’t, we’ve still got our deal with Alt to deliver on.”

_ Fuck you and fuck Alt. _

Yawen and River were discussing something on the screen when V’s vision began to pixelate at the edges, flashing in greens and whites. “Hot damn, right on cue,” she murmured. The pain came in waves as usual, little shocks at first like sparks in her brainstem that swelled into a searing, throbbing tsunami. She grit her teeth and turned her head away, screwing her eyes shut to mitigate the lurching in her stomach. Lines of static divided the blackness behind her eyelids. Unable to help herself, she dug her fingers into her thighs and the growl that threatened to rip from her throat came out as a whimper.  _ Pitiful. _

“They didn’t have to shock you or anything. You’re the perfect labrat, V,” Johnny said, the only audible voice as everything else faded away. 

_ Fuck, it hurts _ .

“Breathe, or you’re gonna have to deal with hyperventilating, too.”

She did, dragging in a first experimental breath, then another. She hated how crystal clear she could hear Johnny over the indistinguishable cacophony: her heartbeat, Yawen’s rapid-fire observations, River’s questions, the beeping of the interface… they all bled together. But Silverhand? Clear as day.

Cold, gloved hands prodded her port and removed the jack. When V opened her eyes, Yawen’s face was swimming in the grainy snatches of her vision. A pressure headache rushed in to fill the space left by pain.

“Well, doc?” V managed, “Get the data you needed?”

Dr. Packard tilted her head to one shoulder, indicating that her answer would be anything but straightforward. “The readouts are valuable, but I’m afraid they will require extensive study. River mentioned you had blueprints of the relic... I am not an engineer; however, my expertise may prove valuable in undoing damage that has already been done.”

V felt at once a surge of hope and dismay: “You mean you can’t remove it?”

“Not alone, and not until much of this damage has been reversed. Acting too hastily may kill you. The relic is supporting your brain’s functioning much like an exoskeleton.”

“An’ how do you anticipate being able to fix that problem?”

Yawen leaned back in her stool, crossing her arms. “With an injection of nanites.” 

V vaguely remembered Vik explaining to her how the relic had come equipped with nanites of its own that were beneficial in saving her life. She guessed that they were still considered a foreign body and worked against any of her own cells, doing the job they’d been programmed to do: make her head a warm and inviting new home for Johnny.

Silverhand was digesting the information too, scrubbing the scruff on his chin. “Well, that’s a thought,” he granted. “Still the issue of getting the chip out.”

_ Maybe we’ll need Alt after all- or Hellman. _

“Nanites- they easy to get your hands on, or do you need an assist?” River asked from his spot by the door. 

“Easy enough, I have some here in the lab,” Yawen responded. “I can program a low dose and have it ready in a few hours. I’ll caution you that this is an experimental procedure not yet cleared for human trials, but laboratory testing has been promising for treatment of neurological disorders in animals.” She looked at V. “Think of it as hundreds of tiny factory resets. The risk, of course, is yours.”

V mulled it over, rubbing her temples. “Payment… what’s in it for you?”

“Ownership of the research and all scans for publication.” 

“That’s it?” Johnny and V asked the same question simultaneously.

Yawen hesitated, glancing at River. “Well, yes- but as I mentioned, you are assuming the risk should anything not work as anticipated. We still don’t have a solid understanding of how the biochip’s nanites will respond to their presence.”

“Fuck it, let’s do it. Got nothin’ to lose.” 

“Wait, wait- hold on a minute, V.” River uncrossed his arms and approached, glancing between her and the doctor. “What’re the chances this’ll make it worse, Yawen?”  
  
“River-” V began, but Yawen interrupted her.

“I can deactivate the nanites if she experiences an adverse reaction. My guess? The risks are negligible.” 

That seemed to reassure him somewhat, but the crease between his brows persisted when he studied V. Her forehead was beaded with sweat and one of her nostrils was saturated with blood. His jaw worked as he turned away and strode out of the room. 

“Think he’s none too happy the chip is staying put for now,” V told Yawen. The knot in her throat echoed his concern- that particular dead end meant that she’d still have to find a way into Mikoshi. “Will the nanites help with the brain zaps?”

“Considerably, I should think,” the doctor said, pushing her chair out so she could stand. “So, are you still on board?”

V blew out a breath that ruffled her hair. “Yeah. Got no other options. This’ll at least buy me time to figure out somethin’ else.” She remembered the shard in her pocket and produced it, standing to lay it on the doctor’s desk. “Blueprints for the chip, as promised. I’ve also got the lead engineer for the project on standby if you’ve got any other ideas. Lemme know when, and I can deliver him to your doorstep.”

“I’ll study the contents tonight, no need to call on your asset until I know more. For now, I must prepare the nanites. It’ll be a few hours if you’d like to return when I’m finished.” Yawen pulled her goggles down over her eyes and got to work, leaving V to find River.

He was waiting in the front office, leaning against the window with his head against his forearm. At her approach, he relaxed intentionally and looked at her over his shoulder. “Feelin’ alright?”

“Aside from the headache? Yeah, actually. You don’t look thrilled, though.”

He sucked his teeth with a sigh. “Let’s grab a bite down the street, we can talk about it while we wait for her to finish tinkering.” 

  
  


**11:15**

  
  


V sat in the passenger’s seat of the Thorton while River discussed aftercare with Yawen inside her office. She focused hard on the coffee in her hand, trying not to think about the experimental procedure waging war in her cortex. The back of her neck hurt from the needle- she’d seen it, it was practically the size of a pen- and she rubbed it with a wince. 

At the diner, River had laid out all of his concerns as promised over pancakes. At the top of the list was the possibility that the new injection could kick the chip into overdrive and flatline her, and at the bottom was the worry that when the research was published, someone at Arasaka would recognize the relic’s signature and hunt Yawen down to find V. There were a few bullet points in between that she had been able to resolve with deductive reasoning, but those two were both unknowns that she currently didn’t have an answer for. He seemed pleased to learn that her fallback option was still in play and asked a few probing questions about Alt and the Blackwall that Johnny was none too happy to hear her answer forthright. What V didn’t include in her explanation was that she would need to slip into Arasaka tower to access Mikoshi.

She took a sip of coffee and considered the discussion she’d had with the doctor a few minutes before. Yawen told her that Johnny wouldn’t be boxed up by the treatment due to the fact it was only to repair damage- he’d still be popping up around every corner with his usual commentary- but judging by how quickly her headache faded, an adverse reaction was looking less and less likely. The doc had insisted that she stay in the exam chair for a full half-hour to ensure that things were off to a promising start, and when her vitals remained steady, she cleared V to leave. There had been a small stack of paperwork that required her signature, but it was a small price to pay in exchange for feeling like they were finally making progress.

V was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice River’s approach, flinching when he opened the door to get in. “How’s my guinea pig doin’?” he asked as he started the truck.

“Feelin’ fine. What’re the doctor’s orders?”  
  
“You’re not gonna like ‘em,” he warned. 

She turned her head to look at him, noting that much of the tension he’d been carrying around all morning had fallen away. He smiled at her and she gestured for him to continue.

“I’m gonna take you to Joss’. Yawen said you’re gonna need to be monitored for twenty-four hours and take it easy. Can’t do anything to poke the bear until we’re sure you’re in the clear.”

“Why Joss’?”

He turned onto the main road, giving her a quick glance. “I gotta get back to work. Got a call while I was talking to Yawen, new intel. Figured Joss and the kids’ll keep you entertained and make sure you don’t do anything too strenuous.”

V nodded, feeling a little sting of disappointment. She knew his first case couldn’t be botched- he had a rep to build- but she’d been hoping to spend her house arrest with him watching crummy movies and eating chinese. 

“It’ll just be a few hours,” he promised, reaching over to put a hand on her thigh. “Then I’ll come get ya and we can head back to your place. Whether or not you want me to stick around for the remainder is up to you.”

“‘Course I do, you gonk. You gotta tell me all about your case and this… new intel.” She rubbed her eyes and took another swallow of coffee. “Just wish I could tag along, help out.” 

“Nuh uh. Don’t even try.” River must’ve known there was a pitch coming.

She relented with a grunt, sinking back into her seat, and threaded her fingers into his. The miles sped by in comfortable silence and V nursed her coffee, her mind blessedly clear for the first time since Takemura had found her in the dump. For the moment, she allowed herself to stop worrying about what was to come. The parade, Arasaka tower, Mikoshi, and Alt all faded into the rearview in favor of nurturing her small flicker of hope.  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a helping of fluff before covering the parade next chapter.

**10:57 17 Jan 2077**

  
  


River tried not to make much noise as he ascended the steps to Joss’ trailer. Lights were still on in the living room and he could hear a few sour notes strummed on a guitar between Randy’s laughter. V was concentrating hard enough on the instrument in her hands that she didn’t notice him walk in. She was curled up on the couch with her back to the door, fingering the strings on Randy’s guitar as his nephew gave her pointers. Moments where V let her defenses drop were still uncommon enough that he was content to simply watch as she cursed and started over, the loose waves of her hair swinging over one shoulder with effort. Her jacket was tossed over the arm of the couch, her boots below it on the floor. She looked like she belonged right there, a fixture in the Kutcher household. 

“Hey, River,” Randy greeted him, and V craned her neck in the direction of the door as Joss poked her head out of the kitchen. 

“She hasn’t moved an inch since she got here, but it’s been a struggle,” his sister reported, her tone dropping an octave as she teased V. “She’s almost as stubborn as you are.”

“But I can listen to reason,” V added. She passed Randy his guitar, “Never been much of a musician, kid. Think the only reason your ears aren’t bleedin’ is because you’re a damn good teacher.”

He waved off the compliment, but still looked proud. “You’ve got natural rhythm, but your finger placement could use some work.” 

Randy had most of his color back and looked as relaxed as River could remember. He’d asked to see V several times in the hospital, as he’d been able to recall her voice and face from when she’d cradled his head in her hands at the farm. He even recounted her praise for the trail of clues he’d inadvertently left behind. It was good to see that he made a friend in her- despite her occupation, she’d proven herself a decent role model with her surprising code of ethics and the heart she took such pains to hide. Watching her interact with him so easily, so genuinely, made River’s mind wander to the possibilities of life beyond the biochip. 

“You’re up late,” River told Randy, ruffling his hair as he crossed the room to stand beside V. She looked guilty, admitting that it was her fault they hadn’t been watching the time. 

“I’m alright, this was… fun,” Randy said. A stern look from his uncle made him sigh, and he got up. “G’night, I guess.” 

“Night, Randy,” V called after him, watching him leave before turning back to River. She looked better, too, bright-eyed and animated. “So, the case. How’s it comin’?”

“Good. Got some leads, gonna shake down a dock worker tomorrow morning. You about ready to roll?”

“Am I cleared to leave the couch?” she asked in the direction of the kitchen and loud enough for Joss to hear. Clearly he’d missed playful squabbling between the two. 

“Yep! Transferring you into the care of Doctor River,” came the response.

“Phew, finally. Bit of a hardass, your sister,” V joked. 

River laughed, “I did warn you how tough she is.”

“Had to see it for myself to believe- she just looks so sweet and unassuming!” She raised her voice for the last bit, earning a laugh from the kitchen, and rose to put on her boots. 

He held her jacket up for her to shrug into and they left, shouting their goodbyes and thanks to Joss before the door shut behind them. The night was bitter cold and River was grateful the Thorton was still running. As they got situated inside, V leaned over the center console and surprised him with a forceful kiss. 

“I forgot to say thank you, earlier. For gettin’ Yawen in on the game plan and for parking me with the fam.” 

He caught her hand before she could pull it away from the side of his face. “Does that mean you had a good time?” 

She nodded, pale eyes flicking between his. “Your sister and her kids, they’re aces. I forgot what it’s like to be part of somethin’ like that. Been a long while since I read anybody a bedtime story and I think I was a teenager last time I let anyone talk me into playin’ the guitar.” The evening she’d just had reminded her of life with the Bakkers, of being eccentric Aunt V to everyone’s kids and frustrating the hell out of their parents when she ended up teaching them technical things that were later clumsily applied on the family electronics. The difference between a communal life and the lonely state of affairs V currently inhabited was stark. 

“I’m glad. Here I was worried you’d come out of your skin sittin’ still too long.”

V gave him another, slower kiss and he finally released her. “Gigs’ll always be there,” she said, nudging the tip of his nose with her own before she sank back into her seat. 

River smothered a yawn in the back of his hand. “Yeah, that’s the thing about work. There’s always more of it.” He threw the truck into gear and drove out of the trailer park. 

The radio droned about the upcoming parade in Japantown, encouraging resident turnout as V listened intently. She wondered if Takemura was tuned into press coverage. Their reconnaissance mission had gone off without a hitch, V stealing into the industrial complex and slipping through the tunnels unnoticed to upload malware into the float’s interfaces. There were points where the plan could have crashed and burned, but Goro was as good as his word and guided her out of the complex untouched. The next portion would be riskier: she’d have to somehow pull off neutralizing snipers overlooking the crowd without being spotted. Arasaka security was a heavyweight contender. 

She checked the time- a quarter ‘til midnight- and rubbed the injection site on the back of her neck. Everything seemed to be in fine working order. Even Johnny had noticed the lack of static when he phased in on the couch beside her at Joss’. 

“I think the doc is onto somethin’ with these nanites,' she told River, reading her own vitals. Her heart rate had been erratic for weeks, broadcasting spikes and dips even at rest. Now, it was sitting at a steady sixty-five. 

“I noticed,” he responded, the light of his artificial eye winking in her periphery as he turned his head to look over at her. “Still, you’ve got a solid twelve hours left before I’m gonna entertain any of your bright ideas.”

“Eleven,” she corrected.

“But who’s countin’?” She jerked a thumb at her chest and he laughed, “There it is. Knew you were plotting somethin’ over there.”

“Got a pretty big job comin’ up in a couple days. Need to be at the top of my game.” 

"Any chance you’re gonna fill me in?”

“Not on this one,” she responded, her tone apologetic as she watched buildings pass. “Don’t wanna worry you needlessly.”

“Hmm.  _ That _ big, huh?”

“It ain’t as big as kleppin’ a relic from Konpeki plaza, if it makes you feel better.”

“Reassuring.” River’s sarcasm settled thick in the cab as Megabuilding H11 came into view. 

V stole a glance at him, observing the hard line of his jaw. She told herself this would be the last secret between them; she decided that after the job was done, after Hanako knew her brother’s crime, she’d tell River everything. At the moment, she couldn’t risk being talked out of it. Her witness was all Takemura had to unseat Yorinobu and she owed Goro her life. 

They pulled into a parking spot and River met her eyes. She must have looked as sorry as she felt, because he gave her a little tug of reassurance at the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay, V. I get it. Let’s focus on gettin’ you better, we can worry about all this later.”

“Now that we  _ have _ a later,” she responded, mostly to herself.

They got out of the Thorton and walked through the parking deck hand in hand. V mused over the past several days during the elevator ride, resting her head on River’s shoulder as newsreels looped on the wall of screens. He’d delivered on his promises in ways she hadn’t dared to anticipate- she hadn’t been able to count on  _ anyone _ that way since Jackie died- and she was so used to the tit-for-tat of mercenary work that she was agonizing over how to return the favor. She broached the thought of putting in a good word to fixers she could trust, which would bolster his caseload, but she wasn’t sure he was prepared for the neverending assignments that would undoubtedly follow. No, it would be best to locate gigs on a case by case basis.  _ That _ would make V an intermediary.

She keyed in the code to open her apartment and stepped inside, immediately kicking off her boots and heading for the couch while River took his time hanging his coat up. Exhaustion had been dragging at her eyelids the whole ride back and all she wanted was to lay her body down. She dropped her jacket on the computer desk, the keys in her pocket thumping against the hard surface, and traded her leather pants for a pair of soft shorts she’d left folded on the side table. A quick check of her bandage revealed still-dry gauze and a lurid purple bruise spreading just beyond where it was taped to her skin. 

When River approached, she glanced up to find him returning a text. “Joss says she enjoyed havin’ you over. Kids had a good time, too.”

“Surprised she didn’t mention what a pain in the ass I was,” V said, smirking, and sank into a pile of pillows. 

“Oh, she did. Just figured you didn’t need to be reminded of somethin’ we both already know.” He sat beside V as she switched on the TV and pulled her legs into his lap. “Sure you don’t want to turn in?”

“Nah, I can sleep ‘til eleven, ‘member?”

“That’s right.” He ran his organic hand up her calf and over her knee, tracing the lines of chrome dividing smooth olive skin. The incisions had been artfully made, edging her existing blackout tattoos like a seam. It was fine work on a finer canvas: she had the long, toned legs of an athlete. She nestled further into the pillows with a satisfied sigh, enjoying his touch. There was some remake of an old action movie on that she was watching between her lashes. He smoothed his hand back down to her ankle. “How ya feelin’?” 

“Better’n I’ve felt in a while,” she murmured. “Haven’t craved a smoke all night.”

“That’s good, right? Has Johnny been around?”

She rasped a tired chuckle, “Yeah, gave me all sorts of hell about my guitar skills.”

“Or lack thereof,” Johnny said, appearing on the opposite side of the couch. 

“Speak of the devil,” V muttered. 

River followed her eyes to the empty seat and rolled his neck when he realized what she was referring to. He hadn’t yet decided if he should be creeped out or attempt to include Johnny in their conversation, as he couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him. “What’s protocol here, V? Am I bein’ rude?” 

Johnny was thoroughly amused by that question, actually laughing out loud. “Well ain’t that sweet. The badge doesn’t want me to feel like a third wheel. Too late for that, man, I’ve seen your ass from all angles.”

V snickered, grinning at River, “He appreciates the thought.” 

“That  _ isn’t  _ what I said.”

Simultaneously, River quirked an eyebrow. “Judging by the look on your face, that’s not all he said.” 

V was feeling outgunned. “He says you can drop the pretense. He feels like he knows you… eh,  biblically ,” she paraphrased, adding pointedly between her teeth, “And he was just leaving.”

River cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Okay, my bad. Shouldn’t have pried.”

Johnny looked pleased with himself, giving V a lazy wave before he flickered back out again. She took advantage of their newfound privacy and tugged at River’s arm, “Lie down with me, he’s gone.” He obliged, carefully stretching out beside her and inching up so that he could thread an arm beneath her body and pull her head to rest on his shoulder. She inhaled into the spot beneath his ear, pressing her lips there. A moment later, her breathing became shallow and the hand on his chest went limp. 

River lay still for quite some time holding the sleeping V while the movie played, not wanting to rouse her, and thought about the day they’d just had. It seemed an enormous and uncharacteristic stroke of luck that Yawen had been able to find a stopgap for the chip eating away at her brainstem. He wondered when the other shoe would drop- when something would go catastrophically wrong and tilt everything back into chaos. He had a good nose for when things were about to go to shit, and it generally happened when he allowed himself the room to look ahead. 

The woman in his arms embodied hope for River. He’d long given up on finding someone who operated on his frequency, but fate had tipped the scales in his favor that day when she slid into that booth across from him at the restaurant. He remembered appraising the grit of the edgerunner, the sheer recklessness required to try and pull information out of a detective without giving an inch in return. She hadn’t been afraid of him in the least.

V was a complicated person with a gnarled past like his own and, despite the divide of their professions and all the bureaucracy that should have put them at odds, she had trusted him enough to work at his side from the jump. Maybe it was that they each found their counterpoint in the other- mirrored values, complementary personalities- or maybe it had something to do with their innate chemistry. Joss had called it qismat, the right place at the right time. 

Whatever it was, it was fierce and building and  _ real _ . He just had to convince her that he could be trusted with all those parts that she kept walled off behind wild grins and jokes. 

The movie credits began to roll and he switched it off before gathering her into his arms. V curled her head against his chest and mumbled groggily as he fixed one arm behind her knees and splayed the opposite hand at her back, pulling himself smoothly to his feet. Even as dead weight, she was lighter than some of his riot gear.

"I’m awake,” she protested. 

_ No you’re not, _ he thought as her fingers loosened from the collar of his shirt.

He carried her the few paces to the bed and folded back the sheets to settle her on the mattress, unwinding her fingers from his clothes. Her eyelashes fluttered as she fought her way to consciousness, but it was a battle she couldn’t win. As quickly as she’d begun to emerge from sleep, she dropped right back into it with a sigh. She looked so damn peaceful that he considered taking the couch. The strong desire to have her body pressed against him ultimately won out and he eased himself into bed and pulled the sheets over them both. It didn’t take long for him to follow her into sleep.

  
  


**09:45 18 Jan 2077**

  
  


When V woke up, River was already gone and an unread message flashed in her optics. She brought it up to read as she stretched her sore neck. 

> Mornin’ babe. Sorry to leave without saying goodbye, work calls. Stay put until 11 o’clock and not a second before, ok? 

She couldn’t help but smile, shooting off a response.

>> Good morning :) I won’t leave until 11, promise. 

Although she itched to get back out on the streets and tie up a couple of loose ends before the parade, she was content to roll back over and pull the blankets over her head for a few more hours of sleep. 


	10. Chapter 10

**19:36 20 Jan 2077**

  
  


V stood over Oda, catching her breath as Takemura pleaded for mercy on his behalf. The barrel of her gun was trained between his eyes. “I doubt he would have given me the same consideration,” she rasped, clutching her side. He’d gotten the jump on her when she unplugged the Arasaka netrunner; if she’d been a fraction of a second slower to react, she’d be a bloody streak on the floor.

“ _ Please _ , V,” Takemura urged. Her nose wrinkled in a grimace. It was a terrible idea to leave a witness that had seen her face, knew her identity.

She cursed between her teeth, fighting her own instincts, and lowered her pistol a degree. “Goddamnit Goro… if I regret this…”

“You won’t. Jack into the access point, we are running out of time.”

She nudged Hanako’s bodyguard with the edge of her boot. “It’s your lucky day, asshole. You just stay right the fuck there,” she growled, spitting blood over her shoulder. He’d caught her lip with an elbow during the initial assault, knocking her head back hard enough that pain cracked through her neck like a shock of lightning. She hurried to the terminal and slid her jack into the dock.

The security feed she’d accessed gave her a good view of the inside of the float: a set of stairs to the back left, an alcove with a desk in the foreground. Hanako was on a call with Yorinobu, expressing her reluctance to follow through with the parade. Evidently, word of the security breach had made its way up to the top channels and the secondary Arasaka heir was feeling the pressure. She rested her head in her hands, disconnecting the call while V knocked out the cameras.

“Now,” she told Takemura. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, squinting as he materialized out of the shadows. Hanako leapt from her chair. Goro tried to keep her calm and talk her down, but his reassurances were too little, too late. She was about to raise the alarm when he fired a tranquilizer and caught her before she could hit the ground.

V sucked in a breath, panic creeping into her voice, “What the _ fuck _ , Goro!” She wet her lips. It was lucky that she’d thought three steps ahead and mapped out an emergency exit. Johnny hovered in her periphery, bursting with I-told-you-sos. 

He glanced at the camera as he hefted Hanako over his shoulder. “V, run!”

She jacked out, holstering her weapon with a fluid motion as she broke into a sprint. Her armor had been carefully chosen for anonymity- an Arasaka bulletproof vest and cargo pants with a set of precision goggles she’d klepped off of a cop- and she shed it as she tore down a crosswalk, tossing the items to the street below. Goro had really stepped in it now. 

She vaulted over a stack of crates and dropped down to a balcony, forcing her steps to slow as she edged into a crowd of bodies. No one seemed to notice or care, even moving out of her way. They were fixated on the holographic fish swimming through the channel of buildings. She reached the elevator and swept inside, slapping the interface to street level. 

Takemura’s ID flashed across her optics and she connected the call. 

“Are you safe?” he asked, breathless.

“For the moment, yeah. What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“I was  _ thinking _ that guards were converging on my position while I was wasting time,” he snapped. “Meet me at the abandoned apartments on Vine street. Room three-zero-three. Knock four times.”

V killed the line and emerged from the elevator, turning her face away from a news crew that rushed by with cameras rolling. She’d had the forethought to stow a klepped Tyger Claw bike in an alleyway nearby behind rain-saturated sheets of cardboard and slipped between buildings to retrieve it. The keys were still in the ignition right where she’d left them. It started up easy and she walked it to the curb before revving off in the direction of Vine street. Takemura’s text flashed in her optics- “Remember. Four times.”- and her grunt of annoyance was stolen by the wind. He really did think she was some simple minded thief. 

The ride was a short one. V pulled up to the front of the building and stole through the door, moving soundlessly up a flight of stairs. She followed the placards on the walls indicating suite numbers and located 303 towards the end of a hallway on the right. Her knocks were distinct and loud, four in total.

The lock disengaged and Goro opened the door, peering into the dark behind her. “Quickly, inside.”

She allowed him to guide her into the room and was a moment away from rounding on him when she recognized the dignified silhouette of Hanako Arasaka seated at a table by shuttered windows. Takemura stopped her from going any further. “I offered her some tea. She refused.” He looked like he was processing a million things at once, gray eyes wide while he studied her face. “You must talk to her, tell her what you know.”

Her anger ebbed despite her better judgement. “Fine,” she relented. “We have to be fast. Every Arasaka dog in Night City is off-leash tryna sniff us out.”

“I know,” he said. “Thank you, V.”  
  
She shot him one last narrow-eyed look before crossing the room to slip into the chair across from Hanako. Their captive wouldn’t meet her eyes; instead, she gazed down at her hands folded in her lap, polished and poised. 

V cleared her throat and didn’t mince words cutting to the chase. “Yorinobu murdered your father. Saw it with my own eyes.”

Hanako’s lashes fluttered and she finally met V’s stare. “This is a grave accusation.”

Takemura crossed his arms where he stood behind her, “She is a witness, Hanako-sama.”

“Why should I believe you?” 

V leaned back in her chair, dabbing her lower lip with her thumb. It stung from where Oda had split it, but the blood had dried and there was nothing left but a purple cut over swollen tissue. “What, my word don’t mean shit? I’m dyin- wouldn’t be wastin’ my time on a damn lie.”

Hanako dropped her gaze once again and turned her head. V was about to continue, but something crashed in the hallway. She and Takemura exchanged a look.

“Go check it out,” he told her, and she was on her feet, moving silently to the doorway. She unholstered her pistol and held it at the low ready, disengaging the lock on the door and nudging it open. All was quiet for a long moment, and then she heard it. The clink of a gas canister falling to the floor. 

“ _ Fuck _ , Goro- Get down!” 

She’d barely bitten the words out before the windows exploded, littering the room in glass. The force of the blast knocked her back and she was falling, falling through a hole in the floor. The force of her landing stole the wind from her lungs. Through the gaps in the ceiling, she could see the discharge of weapons and flashes of grenades. The edges of her vision were dark and she could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness.

“Get up!” Johnny phased in, stalking between the rubble. “Goddamnit, V, get your ass in gear.”

V rolled her head to the side and filled her lungs, breaking into a coughing fit as she inhaled smoke and debris. Adrenaline followed the burning and she found purchase on a twist of rebar. Back on her feet, she gave Johnny a grateful nod and got her bearings. She was back on the first floor and Takemura was nowhere to be seen, probably still upstairs in room 303. 

“What are you doing? Don’t you fuckin’ go back for the corpo fanboy.” Johnny was in her face, ripping off his sunglasses. 

She grit her teeth, phasing through his body and sprinting for the staircase. Shouts reverberated off the walls as she reached the landing and took the corner at speed. There were a handful of guards in the room behind cover unfurling an all-out assault on Takemura and she dropped to her knee to steady herself as she raised her Nova. 

The first two went down in a bloody mist of perfect headshots, a third sheltering behind a fractured slat of cement. Another Arasaka body hit the ground, a good sign that her ally was still drawing breath.

“Goro!” she yelled over gunfire. 

His response was pressed, “V, what are you still doing here?” 

“Savin’ your ass, gonk!” She shouted, snarling as the soldier stood from his position to fire upon her. Three rounds to center mass had him down for the count and she stole to Takemura’s position. He was crouched behind the splintered countertop of the kitchenette, alarmed but whole. Relief crashed through V as she triple-checked her assessment. “Christ, I thought you were fucked for sure.”

Goro gave her a smirk. “Such little faith.”

“Let’s delta before they regroup,” V told him, reloading. “Once we’re out, we need to split.” 

“Good idea,” he said, and she led the way out. Their escape was impeded by another wave of soldiers that they were able to take out without much hassle. Despite the quantity of bodies, they were still just grunts working in a close environment, not at all their area of expertise. Arasaka mostly mobilized on protection details running product and principal. V doubted any of them had seen real combat beyond decimating nomads.

V’s adrenaline was surging as they stumbled out of the building. She grabbed Takemura by the shoulder to get his attention, meeting his eyes. “Lay low, stay in touch.”

“You do the same,” he said before turning on a heel and hauling off into the dark. She located her stolen bike and tore off in the direction of the badlands.

  
  


**04:40 21 Jan 2077**

  
  


“Look alive,” Johnny urged, his silhouette flickering as he moved closer. He dropped to a knee in front of V, waving a hand in front of her eyes. She started awake, adjusting the shotgun on her knee. She was definitely concussed from her fall: she blinked hard in an effort to mitigate the swimming of her optics and sank her head back against the wall with a groan. The bed had been too far from the door to give her a good vantage point of the light coming through the window, so she’d dragged a mattress to the floor and settled in to be her own protection detail. Any activity would be easy to spot, casting shadows into the room.

“Ain’t the time to be dreamin’ about your badge, kid.” 

“Shut up, Johnny.” 

She had been agonizing over the fact that River was at her apartment, firing off frantic texts as the news of Hanako’s abduction and subsequent recovery spread. The stations were light on the details of what happened to the kidnappers, evidently, and he’d been quick to parse together her off-the-cuff mentions of the parade with the events of the night. Even after letting in the doll and discussing Saburo’s murder with Hanako through the proxy, she’d been hesitant to communicate over an unsecured line. It would take until dawn at the very least for the heiress to plant false flags and send the heat in another direction. 

> I hope you’re safe, V.

Her stomach hurt. She hated leaving him on read. 

“What if they go to my apartment and find River there waiting on me?” she asked Johnny, voice thin and gravelly. 

“If they had that much information, he’d already be dead and wouldn’t be blowin’ up your line. You were careful as you could be, ‘member? The gear, the bike. Worst case scenario, they’ve got you on security cams and have a clear look at the pixelation from your Kiroshis.”

“Yeah,” she responded, dropping her eyes to her knees. She was still unconvinced, but hung on to hope that Hanako had gotten Oda on board before he could go reporting her identity to leadership. 

Her body ached head to toe from exertion and the overuse of maxdocs. Each muscle felt like it was pulled tight, every tendon echoing the impact of her fall. There was no doubt in her mind that she would have had one shitstorm of a relic malfunction to contend with if not for Yawen’s nanites. Johnny had been able to give her some pointers on hideouts and they were currently holed up in some dump off the freeway. It had been long left to squatters and junkies; she’d found needles piled in the sink when she went to scrub the blood off her face.

“Wish I had one of those little red pills, let you be the lookout,” she grumbled. She tapped her pockets, finding and producing a pack of cigarettes. 

“Atta girl,” Johnny said approvingly before gazing back out of the window.

She lit up, taking a first long drag. The buzz of nicotine branched out to her fingertips, mitigating sluggishness, and she looked around the room with somewhat more alert eyes. Graffiti littered the walls, messages of hopelessness in the scrawl peppered between gang symbols. All of the wiring had been stripped by scavengers hoping to make a quick buck off the copper circuitry. There was nothing left to profit off of, making this a secure location for the time being. No one would come looking for anything here but an overdose.

V’s sigh was a curl of smoke. “I’m gonna catch a few winks when the sun comes up, then try to find somethin’ to wear that’s not covered in blood before I go meet Hanako.” She flicked ash, letting the cigarette dangle between her torn knuckles.

“Blows my mind that you think you can trust that snake.” Johnny’s tone was sharp with disapproval.

“Got no other choice,” she shot back. “She knows who I am, best to play along for now or she’ll release the hounds. ‘Sides, she might be able to open a backdoor into Mikoshi.”

He gave her a noncommittal grunt. “Not likely. Better keep your piece loaded.”

“Always,” she agreed. The first ribbons of dawn were beginning to lighten the cloud deck, a blush of pink cresting the gradient of navy and gray. She held her breath as sirens whirled by outside, waiting until they faded to bring the cigarette back to her lips. Johnny hopped down off the windowsill with a gesture for her to follow.

“C’mere.” 

She staggered to her feet, stealing a look at the empty parking lot before meeting him by a vent. He pointed to it, “Take out the grate, got somethin’ for you.”

V knelt and did as he requested, finding a set of dog tags stashed in the lip of the duct. She had to blink her eyes several times to focus on the name embossed there. “These from the Mexican conflict?” she asked. 

Johnny crossed his arms with a nod, “When I was a young pissbrain like you, I enlisted in a corp army. Was in Mexico when I realized that no matter the conflict, corps always win. Ordinary people always lose.”

V scrubbed a palm over her eyes. “That sounds about right.” She was too exhausted to rib him, despite there being a glaring opportunity to do so. All the wind had been sucked right out of her sails by the concussion.

“I deserted, wound up here. Locked in this room, I laid in bed staring at this ceiling fan for a good month.” 

She curled her fingers around the tags, sinking against the wall. Everything was flooding back: turning her back on her family, then finding one with Jackie only to lose it all over again when he took his last breaths beside her in the cab. Despite the progress she’d made with Yawen’s help and River’s unflinching support, hopelessness was edging in. Any misstep could bring the world crashing down around them, too. She felt cold and small and alone. “That…” she swallowed, mustering the words. “That sounds exactly like what I wanna do. I dunno if I’ve got enough fire left to poke Arasaka again. It’s almost cost me my life twice.”

“That’s why I brought you here,” Johnny said, removing his aviators and folding them in his hands. He regarded her with a seriousness V hadn’t seen before. “Wastin’ days, weeks. That’s the step I want you to skip.”

“Why’re you givin’ me these, Johnny?” 

“Imagine we’re deployed together, fightin’ in a war side by side. Would you take a bullet for me?”

V was holding the tags so hard that her hand hurt. If there was anything she was naturally programmed to do, it was to put herself in harm’s way to prevent anyone else from taking a hit. That’s why merc work came so easily for her, why she was _ good  _ at it. After she’d thrown everything else away, she still had the skill and steel to stand up for the little guy. Her preferred jobs always weighed justice with what was good for the people she loved. The Aldecaldos, Judy, Misty, River… keeping them safe was as good a reason as any to roll out of bed in the morning. If not for them, she would have swallowed a bullet the second Jackie died. She took in a final drag of her rapidly ashing smoke and flicked it into an ashtray. 

Johnny wasn’t so different, but his perspective was much broader than her own. He’d step on anyone, use anyone, to cut the legs out from under corps that flourished on impoverishing and feeding off of the people. 

“Yeah,” she said, quietly. “I would.” 

“Tags belonged to a man who sacrificed his life for mine in Mexico.” He nodded at her. “Been thinkin’ of our predicament. Wanna be clear: I will do you no wrong. When it comes down to your life or mine, I agree to get wiped. The tags are proof of my promise.”

She felt her lip quiver and pressed her mouth into her wrist to stop it. Thankfully, she was past the point of being tired enough to get weepy. “Thanks, Johnny.” 

“Listen, are you really considering Hanako’s offer?”

V shook her head bitterly, “I’m all ears if you’ve figured somethin’ else out. As it stands, she’s my easiest way into Mikoshi.”

“Workin’ on something, but for now I got a request.” She looked up at him from where she sat, and he continued, “Adam Smasher, fucker that got the better of me. Whatever happens, I want him zeroed, gone, tossed to the wind as mulch.”

She stared at him for a long moment, calculating. Adam Smasher was a genuine, walking dead man. From the moment he’d called Evelyn Parker a piece of ‘fuckable meat’, V had wanted to pump a bullet into both eyes. After seeing what he’d done to Johnny, that desire only solidified. She slipped the dog tags around her neck and got her legs underneath her for long enough to steady herself against the wall. “His time’s comin’.” 

“I want Rogue to be there with you,” Johnny added. “It’s just as important to her as it is to me.”

“Not sure Rogue holds the same grudge. What makes you think she’ll agree to help?”

“‘Cause I’ll ask her to. You drop the pills from Misty, and I’ll take the wheel.”

She bit back a wave of nausea at the thought of experiencing the relic seizing control of her body again. She had no way of knowing what the pills would do to the nanites- no way of finding out until it was too late. “Fuck, Silverhand. Were you butterin’ me up with these tags?”

“No. I won’t push it, I’m just askin’ you to give it some thought.”

V swallowed hard, measuring an exhale out in increments. “I need to sleep,” she murmured. “I can’t go back home until I know Hanako called the heat off, and in order to find _ that _ out, I’ve gotta go to Embers.”

Johnny waved a hand at her, “Yeah. Fine. Sleep. You can thank the good doc for giving you that luxury.”

“I will,” she snapped, “If I ever see ‘er again.”

“Christ, V. Just…” He clenched a fist, wanting to put it through a wall. When he continued talking, his voice was lower, more even. “Just sleep.”

She began to walk towards the mattress when she spotted a man climbing up the stairs. Judging by his ragged outerwear and the twitchy way he moved, she guessed he was a junkie. Either that, or a really great actor. She scanned him from the shadow of the window, his identification coming back with numerous arrest warrants. He had no ties to any corps, and she allowed herself to relax. Johnny was gone, so she made a quick decision and walked out the door. 

“Hey,” she called to the stranger, producing her pistol. He dropped the armful of packaged food he’d been carrying and threw his hands up in surrender. V felt a shock of guilt when she realized he’d lost control of his bladder, but kept her face the picture of neutrality. “Wanna make a couple hundred eddies?”

“Why are you pointin’ a gun at me if you’re offerin’ me money?” the man asked, looking like he was going to drop into a sprint at any second. 

“‘Cause you can take me up on my offer or you can eat lead. Choice is yours.”

"I’m listenin’.”

“Gimme your phone.” He handed it over and V lowered her gun long enough to enter River’s number into the screen, typing out a message that she knew he'd be able to discern was from her. She passed it back. “Need you to get the fuck outta here. When you can’t see the building anymore, hit send and block. And if you come back, I’ll assume you reneged on our deal and decided on the lead.”

“How much scratch we talkin’?”

She dug in her pocket, producing a wad of eurodollars to count quickly. “Five hundred and twenty. That sound square?”

His weatherworn face split into a grin, “Hell yeah, you got it, boss.”

“Good.” V didn’t indicate how relieved she was to hear it, jerking her head. “Now delta.” 

The junkie hopped down the stairs and split, hitting cement at a run. She watched him go and holstered her pistol, looking around. She’d burned her hideout. Flashing cash at addicts was the best way to get popped on this side of town, but finding a new place to lay her head was a small price to pay for the deal she’d just struck. 

-

Across the city, River was sitting in his truck outside of Corpo plaza on his second coffee of the morning. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep waiting up for V, especially when he’d turned on the news and saw what had transpired in Japantown. His recollection was vague, but he was sure she’d mentioned the parade in the previous days, something about meeting a friend there. He hoped against all hope that he was wrong, but he had a sinking suspicion that she was involved in the abduction in some capacity. 

He ran a hand over his buzzed head, downing the rest of the coffee in a couple of swallows. History seemed to be rewriting itself. Any Night City native knew all about Johnny Silverhand’s part in the bombing of Arasaka headquarters in 2023. He just couldn’t decide if this was V acting out of her own free will or whether Johnny had dug his claws in so deep that she couldn’t shake him. He gripped the steering wheel. Being on the clock when he wanted to find her was nothing short of torture.

Just then, a message flashed across his optics from an unknown number. As he read it, he let out a ragged laugh of relief.  


> Everything’s aces. See you soon. xo


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning :)

**20:14 22 Jan 2077**

  
  


V sat shoulder to shoulder with Takemura on a bench in City Center, watching the cars pass in silence. Rain pattered on the metal overhang above and gushed through the gutters, spilling into the storm drain where the curb met asphalt. The downpour and billboards and mill of bodies beneath umbrellas paired seamlessly with the smooth jazz emanating from the doorway of the restaurant they’d just left. 

“I will be returning to Tokyo with Hanako-sama,” Takemura told her at length. When she didn’t respond, he turned his head to study her profile. Dressed the way she was, she would have looked right at home in an Arasaka boardroom. She was gazing at the skyline deep in thought. “I wanted to thank you, V. You have given me my life back, a gift you would not let me return.”

She did look at him then, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I’ll figure somethin’ out,” she responded. “Happy for you, Goro. The food’s prolly better in Tokyo. Have some of that nigiri for me.”

He hummed. “Your jokes annoyed me not too long ago. Now I think I may miss them.”

“‘Course you will,” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re friends.”

“We  _ are _ friends.”

They both knew that this was likely the last conversation they’d ever have. Takemura’s soon-to-be-restored station at Arasaka required a certain level of professionalism to be maintained with outside contacts- a level of professionalism that V did not meet. She had given what she could to help him and it would have to be enough. For a mercenary, she had proven herself a woman of honor and a steadfast ally, and that opened his eyes to shades of gray that hadn’t existed in his previously dichromatic understanding of the world. 

“It’s not too late to ditch the corp. Y’know, become a nomad…,” she began. 

He shook his head, recalling their conversation overlooking the industrial park. It seemed to have happened many lifetimes ago already. “Like Hanako-sama, I know my place.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. You deserve better than Arasaka.”

She met his eyes again, expression serious. Takemura knew how she felt about corporations and their war machines- in Night City, he’d seen her points play out, proven time and again- but he had found his foothold in security and was loathe to turn his back on it. A childhood in poverty paved the road of loyalty for many Arasaka soldiers. They knew what it was like to struggle, to go hungry, and would not let newfound prosperity slip through their fingers. V understood that he was as much a victim of the corps as anyone, he just wasn’t strong enough to face his own denial. 

He didn’t try to fight her assessment, instead declining his head. “Thank you.”

“You ever need a way out, just call. I’ll be at the backdoor with a crowbar.” She made to stand as her cab pulled up and turned back to get a final look at her unlikely friend. “Take care, Goro. It’s been a hell of a ride.”

Takemura rose and opened the door for her. Before it shut, he answered, “You as well, V.”

  
  
**21:50**

  
  


River climbed the stairs to V’s apartment for what felt like the hundredth time in three days. He had been anticipating walking in to find her sprawled out on the couch with a beer in hand each time, and each time he’d been disappointed. Since the mysterious text he’d received days ago, there’d been nothing but radio silence. Being himself, he couldn’t let a lead go and attempted to call and text the number it had come from several times, but the line remained blocked. V was smart; she wouldn’t leave a loose end dangling. It was almost reassuring- confirmed it had been her.

He disengaged the lock and stepped inside, his small flicker of hope snuffing out. All the lights were still off and nothing had been moved. Even the cat was in the same spot he’d left it curled up on the couch.

“Hey, V’s cat.” The only response was a flick of its tail. He hadn’t been sure how much to feed it- V normally handled that- so he’d kept the bowl full and hoped that it knew how to self-regulate.

River dropped his overnight bag at the door and shut it behind him. The sky outside the window was gray and hazy, streaked with neons, and the raindrops on the glass were pink and orange reflections of the billboards beyond. It was picturesque and lonely. 

He flicked on the TV and descended the steps to the living room, movements heavy and weary, and sank onto the couch. Looked like it would be another night of waiting and worrying. Nibbles stretched out his front paws, pulling himself across the cushions and stretching his long, hairless body against River’s hand. River scratched him absently while scrolling the channels for any new developments. There were many, much like every night: robberies, murders, cyberpsychos, and gang activity, but no mention of Hanako Arasaka’s kidnappers. It was curious that such a significant event had been removed from the public eye, almost as if the talking heads at Arasaka wanted it to slip into the rearview and fade from memory. 

River had called up his few remaining friends at the precinct the night of V’s disappearance to ask them to keep an eye out for her Arch, to keep it quiet and report back, but they’d come up empty handed. So, he’d had to resort to contacting her known associates. That was a monumental task as her list of fixers, friends, and business acquaintances was lengthier than he’d anticipated. He visited her ripperdoc beneath the Esoterica- Vik- and ran into a friend she’d mentioned a few times on the way: Misty. Neither of them knew anything about her whereabouts, but they’d been able to point him to one Judy Alvarez at Lizzie’s who was looking for her, too.

The BD tech had been gunning for a fight at first. It took a formal introduction for her to finally give him an appraising once-over and take her hand off the bat leaned against her chair. Evidently, V had told her about him. She said that V’s bike was parked outside of her apartment building, but she had no clue how it got there, or when. The only piece of information he got from Judy that led anywhere was the location of Panam Palmer, a nomad that V had spent a significant amount of time with in the previous weeks.

When he pulled up to the Aldecaldo camp to talk to her, nomads surrounded his truck and the situation panned out a lot like it had at Lizzie’s. They regarded him with suspicion and hostility until he told them who he was and then they mobilized to help. A few motorcycle scouts were assigned to patrol the badlands and River was told to wait for Panam’s return. When she finally did arrive in her tricked-out Thorton, it was clear she’d already been briefed. She jogged up to him and unleashed a sharp array of questions about her friend, telling him that V hadn’t been answering her calls either. 

Saul, the nomad leader, pledged that they’d send people into the city and work their contacts, promising that they’d reach out if they found anything. That only left V’s connections in the Valentinos and at the Coyote in Heywood to question. None of the gang punks would talk to him, but the proprietress of the bar dropped a name that sounded familiar, introducing herself as Guadalupe Alejandra Welles. Her expression had fallen the moment he mentioned V and she’d had to pull up a chair before explaining how they were connected. She was Jackie's mother.  


River had now met nearly every important person in V’s life without her at his side to introduce them, and had to do the difficult work of expressing the importance of keeping their own searches as close-lipped as possible. They didn’t want to make her disappearance any more glaring than it already was and raise any alarms. It should have been easy to find even a skilled agent with the manpower he’d recruited.

But V was a ghost.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the noise of a key slotting into the door and was up in an instant with his pistol drawn. Keeping his weight distributed evenly, he moved to the entryway and pressed himself against the wall. As badly as he wanted it to be V on the other side of that door, the chances of it being so seemed miniscule. She surely would have texted or called, even sent a message somehow, if she was prepared to come out of hiding. He held a breath in his throat as he strained his ears.

Finally, the door swished open and he nearly fumbled his firearm when the first thing to emerge through the frame was a heeled boot followed by long silver hair. He holstered the Overture and in the same smooth motion swept forward to gather V in his arms. Initial surprise made her go rigid, but she recovered quickly and leapt up to lock her legs around his waist. She slapped the keypad to close the door and ripped off her sunglasses, framing his face with her hands. Her eyes were huge and tired as she studied him, taking in the matching shadows beneath his own. His jaw was rough with stubble beneath her palms. 

“River, I’m so sorry. Things went sideways so fa-” 

Before she could explain, he pushed her roughly against the door and captured her lips in a kiss that tasted like  _ I forgive you-thank fuck you’re okay-don’t ever do that again _ . All the words she’d prepared simply evaporated in favor of this more physical apology of tongues and teeth. She transmuted despair into tenderness and worry bled out in the pressure of her fingernails on the back of his neck.

Pulling away with a sharp intake of breath, she promised, “I’ll tell you everything” before colliding again with a whimper. Where he’d been tentative initially, his relief revved into urgency. Neither of them were much for words, but the language of their bodies was more than adequate for the conversation they’d both been anticipating.

River carried her to the kitchen and sat her on the countertop, stepping between her legs. Wherever she’d just come from, she’d gotten dressed up for it. She was wearing a skirt made of shiny, synthetic material that was short enough to leave a gap between the tops of her thigh-high boots. Her loose white shirt was already a rumple on the floor, leaving only a lace bra and a delicate, glittering chain around her neck that ended in a gold pendant that hung just above her breasts. She pulled back a fraction, nose still beside his, and murmured a second apology- something about wanting to keep him safe- before he shushed her with another kiss. 

This hadn’t been how he planned greeting her upon her return, but all he could focus on was that she was whole and unhurt. She smelled faintly of perfume and tasted like top shelf whiskey. His senses drank her in, the faint chattering of her teeth and the heat of her thighs against his hips, as she unbuckled his belt with clever fingers. A moment of fevered adjustment followed and then- blissfully, finally- he was seated entirely within her. 

He fucked her there against the counter, her heels rattling the cabinets with each deep thrust. It was frenzied and desperate and peppered with more of her hoarse apologies between kisses. He swallowed each one, overwhelmed by the assault on his senses. She was tight and wet, both soft and hard, and she was intact and she’d come back to him. She’d  _ come back to him _ .

River fisted a hand in her hair, trying to pace himself as he ripped away from the kiss and moved his mouth to the spot beneath her ear. He wanted to tell her everything- how he’d searched for her everywhere, applied every trick he could think of, but the words fled as her gasps became uneven. She urged him on with a breathy whisper and the scrape of her teeth against the shell of his ear. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded, angling herself downward into his movements and scrambling for purchase against the countertop. He didn’t, keeping pace as she reached her climax and continuing to fuck her through it. Finally, he spilled inside her with a final few, deep thrusts and rested his forehead against her clavicle to collect himself.

They stayed there for some time, V smoothing her palms up his back as her heart raced beneath his cheek. He brought his own hands up from where he’d planted them at either side of her thighs and clenched his jaw, swallowing hard, before straightening to get a good look at her. 

“I should have told you,” she said. He focused on her mouth as it formed the words and thumbed the raised purple wound on her lower lip. He pulled back further, gathering her hands in his and taking inventory of bruised knuckles. 

“What… happened?” he asked. 

“It’s a long story. Requires a shower, and some drinks.” Even as she tried to lighten the mood, she realized that she was failing miserably. River’s wrecked expression didn’t ripple and he made no indication of moving away. “Or…” she licked her lips and smoothed her hair behind one ear, “Or I could tell you now.”

“Do that,” he responded. She would have thought he was angry if his voice wasn’t so gentle.

V launched into a retelling of the entire story, sparing no detail starting with what she’d witnessed during the heist at Konpeki plaza. She described how she and Jackie had seen Yorinobu strangle the life out of the Emperor and how that one event created a domino effect that ultimately led to Jackie’s death, and then her own. She reminded him of Takemura and how he’d dragged her out of the dump, administering an airhypo so that she could help him fend off Arasaka assassins. He already knew Vik’s role in patching her back up, but she included it for posterity. Then, V recalled the reconnaissance mission at the industrial park to hack the float, bringing them to the recent parade and how quickly things had gone sideways after Hanako refused to hear them out. 

River rubbed her knuckles with a sigh. “And you’re dressed to the nines- why?”

“I just came from giving Hanako my witness testimony. She wanted me to present it in person to the board, but I don’t trust her- I don’t trust any of them. I spoke on the condition of anonymity, being that Takemura could back up my account. I let them pull the footage from my optics.”

“Hanako Arasaka,” he repeated slowly, dropping his gaze to the tightening of her throat. “This clears you? You’re done with the corp?”

She nodded, filling the gap between going into hiding and her testimony with an account of the events at Embers, how Hanako tried to bait her with access to Mikoshi and the promise of removing the relic. He was proud that she didn’t sell out even when they offered her exactly what she wanted. She would find another way, and he would help.

“You understand why I went ghost, right?” she asked after giving him a long moment to digest her story. Her voice broke on her next words: “I couldn’t let them take anyone else from me.” 

“I could have _ helped _ you, V.” Despite his insistence, there was no heat behind it. He was just grateful. Grateful that she was alive, that it was over. 

“No more secrets,” she promised.

River cupped her chin, releasing the breath he’d been compressing in his lungs. He’d tried so hard to be angry, but after being presented with the whole story, he realized that he would have done the same thing to shield V if he’d been in her place. “Okay,” he told her. She looked like she was a hair’s breadth from shattering in relief and he gathered her against his chest. “It’s okay.” It seemed that all those walls he’d wanted to breach were tumbling down of their own accord.

“How are you, River?” she asked into his skin. 

He pulled back, heartache abating somewhat when she looked up at him in earnest. He could offer her understanding in return for her honesty. “I’ll be alright. How about that shower, some drinks?”

“Sounds good.” She let him help her down from the counter and shed the rest of her clothing on her way to the bathroom. He followed, doing the same.

Later, tangled up in the sheets, V watched the rise and fall of River’s chest between her lashes. It was painfully clear that he hadn’t gotten much sleep since she’d been in the wind- after a few beers and another desperate coupling, he’d rolled off of her and promptly passed out. She’d been certain that he was going to have a lecture prepared, maybe even leave, but all he’d wanted was an explanation. Their hands were still clasped beside her head when she finally allowed her thoughts to fall away and closed her eyes. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter! Please forgive me :)

**10:08 26 Jan 2077**

  
  


“That should do it,” Panam said, satisfied, as she hopped down from the roof of her truck. Her gloves were slick with grease and gun lubricant and she wiped them on her jeans while she turned to watch V tighten the last few lugnuts on the front right tire. The ex-Bakker looked right at home disassembling the impact driver with a cigarette dangling between her lips. 

“Almost ready to roll?” V asked in a curl of smoke, dropping from her crouch into a sit. They’d rotated the Thorton’s tires and performed routine maintenance on the turret and combat deck- everything looked in order for the next big heist. And a big one it was: Saul had forbidden them from intercepting a Basilisk passing through the badlands in a Militech convoy and, true to form, Panam had taken his order as a suggestion. 

“Just waiting on Mitch’s all-clear.”

V glanced up at her, stretching one leg out. The sunlight and breeze felt damned good, warming her right down to the bone. She’d dressed for the weather in slim fit denims and a ratty old crop top and freckles were already beginning to appear where the sun hit her shoulders. The black brake dust beneath her fingernails and smudge on her cheek were fine accessories, but rounding out the look was a well loved Aldecaldos harness buckled across her midsection and thighs- ‘since you’re one of us’, Mitch had said. She took a final drag and flicked the butt into the sand before grinding it in with the heel of her boot. If she’d been more introspective, she’d wonder why she’d been craving a smoke all morning and why her optics wavered when she moved too quickly. “Gotta make sure Saul’s lookin’ the other way, huh?”

“That’s the idea.” Panam sat beside her, back against the truck. They’d pushed it behind a rocky outcrop early that morning under the cover of twilight, headlights off and engine in neutral. As far as Saul knew, they were city-bound to pal it up in Heywood with V’s contacts.

“Nervous?” V asked, tying her hair back in a knot. 

“No more than your usual pre-heist jitters,” Panam answered. 

“Ain’t this your first big op?” 

The Aldecaldo leveled a smirk at V, “What do you call taking down an AV? A small op?”

“You had some help orchestrating that one. This basilisk is  _ your  _ baby.” V studied her friend with a smile, noting how she promptly diverted her attention to a loose thread on her jacket. She was jittery, alright- jittery in the way one got before a big score, a sure thing. If the Bakkers had someone like Panam years ago, they wouldn’t have sold out at the first opportunity. V had never been one for taking up the mantle of leadership, preferring to run and gun on the fly. Her actual station had been that of forward scout, haunting crossroads and waypoints to map out corp movements. She had a way of teasing out weak spots in convoy security that usually shook out big profits, but she’d always fallen in line when the chain of command deemed her ideas too risky. 

“If you’re trying to make me nervous…” Panam trailed off, tapping her comm as Mitch’s signal came through:

_ “Let’s ride, ladies.” _

V rose first, offering a hand to Panam and hauling her to her feet. “Is it workin’?”

That earned her a solid punch to the arm. If the subdermal armor hurt Panam’s knuckles, she didn’t show it. “Shut up, V.”

They got in the Thorton firing jabs at each other the whole way. Their friendship was easy in a way that V found increasingly rare: Panam gave as good as she got- held her own. There was no hand holding, no coddling, just two road demons that saw eye to eye and had the grit to follow through on necessary evils.

The radio blasted outlaw country as they rode and wind whipped through the open windows. V’s jobs in the Badlands never felt like work, especially when riding shotgun with an Aldecaldo. 

“We coulda taken my car,” V muttered, tapping her pockets for another cigarette. She gave up when she realized what a pain the ass it would be to light with the windows down. The Javelina that Dakota had sold her was parked back at the camp and they’d spent hours running diagnostics and fine-tuning the beast between beers, deeming it roadworthy shortly after sunset. 

Panam scoffed. “What, your brand new baby? Hell no, not on this one.”

“Think it’s too recognizable?” V was practically preening, kicking a foot up on the dash that Panam promptly swatted back down. 

“ _ That _ sexy piece of mechanical muscle? Bet. So _ oo _ ,” Panam said, the drawl in the vowel getting V’s attention. “Your input was either brave or desperate pulling up to camp alone. Mitch had him in the crosshairs.”

“Some of column A, some of column B,” V responded. She dropped her gaze to her dusty knees. The veterans had already quizzed her about River the day before, but Panam had clearly been waiting for him to come up in conversation as to not make it seem like she was prying. She wasn’t the patient sort, though.

“That’s a rare kind of devotion. He looked like he was about to start turning crates upside down and shaking until you fell out of one.”

V hummed, chewing her thumbnail as she fought a grin. She could see how River might have thought that the nomads were hiding her, being that they’d had many conversations about the Aldecaldos. He had been of the mind that they weren’t great news, considering Joss’ husband had tangled with them on several occasions- but ever since Panam dropped everything to try and help him, his spoken opinions at least had become a little rosier. He knew enough about V’s own experiences with the Bakkers that he viewed them with a distant, almost begrudging respect. Like endangered species, nomads were an integral part of the Night City landscape. 

She turned her head to meet Panam’s inquisitive look. The silence had stretched out long enough that V could hear her friend’s gears turning. “River’s sweet. I like him a lot.” Shrugging a shoulder, she finished, “Thanks for helpin’ him out.”

“Did it for you, V.” They exchanged a smile and Panam dropped her speed, waving a hand towards the windshield. “And we’re here.”   
  
V ducked to get a better look at the waystation: a behemoth of a train gathered rust on the tracks, surprisingly intact despite being forgotten by the years. It was a wonder that some nomad hadn’t disassembled it for scrap-  _ she _ certainly would have, once upon a time. She let out a low whistle of appraisal, “Damn, this just might work.”

Panam hopped out. “Did you have any doubt? C’mon.” 

V followed her, strolling into the circle of vehicles where the others had parked. There was an easy, jovial air between the lot of them- jokes flowing off the cuff, morale practically bubbling over. Everyone seemed ready to dig in to the task at hand. Carol jerked her head in a nod of greeting and Cassidy followed the gesture with a tip of his hat. 

“Alright, crew. Let’s get this show on the road,” Panam said. V glanced over at her, studying the confidence in her posture: times like this, she proved herself a born leader. She felt a little flicker of pride as she watched the Aldecaldos divvy up tasks, but the undercurrent pulled her heart in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She missed this, the feeling of family under wide open skies. 

“V?” Panam was waiting on her, already halfway to the station. “With me.”  
  
V crunched dust and loose rocks on her way, scanning the doors and windows for a weak point that she could exploit. There was an entryway with security she could easily bypass, so she got to work while Panam looked for another in. The lock disengaged a few moments later with a shriek of rusted hardware.

“You could have told me what a cake walk that would be for you,” came Panam’s voice from around the side of the building. V smirked as she withdrew from the panel, waving her in. 

The inside of the station was in complete disarray as if it had been left in the middle of the day with full intention of returning fully staffed from a lunch break. When they reached the control room and split up to look for punch cards, V had to brush empty coffee cups off the stacked boxes to rifle through the contents. Her scanner roved over cabinets filled with dusty paperwork, searching for the slotted sheets while compiling data that might prove useful if they ran into complications. Her optics flashed a message from Saul just as she put her hands on what she was looking for. 

> Hey V. You got eyes on Panam?

She glanced back through the doorway at Panam’s silhouette against the midday sun. Her response was a hasty lie:

>> Yeah, treatin’ your girl to lunch. Sup?  
> Just checking. Thanks.  
>> No prob :]

“Hey Pan,” she said, pivoting on her heel and gesturing with the punchcard. “Saul’s lookin’ for ya.”

“He can keep looking. Slot that into the reader, will you?” Panam pointed to the desk and leaned over the ledge to look at the tracks below. 

“Told him I’m buyin’ you lunch.” V fed the card into the indicated slot and tapped the interface, her fingertips coming away with a sticky coat of dust. 

“Oh yeah? Great, I’m starving.”

V grinned, watching machinery cycle to life, “Maybe after we get the basilisk back to camp.” Her comm lit up with Carol’s affirmation that the train was up and running, kicking off more chatter. Panam waved her over to watch the train inch forward from the overlook.

“A sight for sore eyes,” Panam mused. The way she said it gave V pause. 

“All good?” she asked, noting how her face had quickly gone neutral. 

Panam straightened, hugging her arms to her midsection. It seemed to take ages for her to make eye contact and when she did, there was a crease between her eyebrows. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Uh oh,” V said. “Yeah, but if you’re gonna ask me to marry you, ‘fraid I’m spoken for.”

The joke rolled off of the Aldecaldo. “Why are you doing all this? Not that I’m ungrateful but… what’s in it for you?”

V huffed a laugh of disbelief, looping an arm around her shoulders and turning her back to face the scene unraveling below. The rest of the crew had converged in the circle of the vehicles, already popping beers open- even Carol, who had chained herself to an interface. “Look at ‘em, will you? Your family deserves everything that’s good in this world. That basilisk will make you a heavyweight contender.”

“That doesn’t answer my question of what you’re getting out of it.”

“I dunno. Maybe I just want to solidify your clan’s place. Make it so you can’t be bought out…” V trailed off, knowing that Panam would catch her drift, all the words unspoken inbetween. The Bakkers hadn’t been so lucky. “And you’re my friend. I don’t want you to be forced to make the same decisions I did.”

Panam leaned in for a moment, satisfied with her explanation. “I’m glad to have a friend in you. And you can count on us, too. With whatever it is you need.”

“Got all I need right now, but I know.” V released her, moving away. “Think I saw Cassidy breaking out an old pot. Let’s get some chow.”

  
  


**21:19**

  
  


As night deepened over the Badlands, a guitar was produced and a pot of chili bubbled over the fire. The smell of woodsmoke and roasted tomatoes and peppers in the arid desert had sharpened V’s appetite and she stepped away from the group after her second helping to have a cigarette. Wisps of cloud drifted overhead, a blanket between the dazzling array of stars- it was a sight that made her pine for roads less traveled. She remembered the celestial reflection in the still waters of Flathead lake back in Montana, recalled the bite of early spring even far removed from memory. 

“Doin’ an awful lot of dreamin’ lately,” Johnny commented as she took a drag, head tilted towards the sky.

“May say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one,” V sang a snatch of song off-key, blowing smoke. 

“Good thing you don’t get paid for that voice. This your future here, kid?” He swept an arm in the direction of the nomads. 

“Nah.” Even as V responded, there was a fist closing in her throat. “They’re extended family. I guess they’ll move on before long, and the City’ll forget they were ever here.”

“You gotta stay on task, then.”

“I’ve got time, remember?” She shed ash, humming the tune as she leaned against Panam’s truck. Johnny had started to pace. It was a familiar sight, his restlessness, and V knew it had everything to do with the fact she hadn’t yet reached out to Rogue. He was getting impatient, but he’d promised he wouldn’t try and force the issue. “I’ll hit her up once I get back to NC tomorrow, alright? Just… I ain’t thrilled about what those little red pills might do to me.”

“It’s already happenin’, V. The smokes, the vertigo- what, you think you developed a nicotine craving on your own?”

V looked at the cigarette in her hand as if noticing it for the first time. “What’re you sayin’?”

“I’m sayin’ that whatever the doc did, it’s wearin’ off. You’re about to start the downhill slide again.”

She flicked the smoke into the dust. “You’re bullshittin’. I feel fine.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, won’t make it true.” Johnny looped his thumbs in his belt, sidling up beside her. “Nanites were a good distraction, gave the chip somethin’ else to eat away at, I’m guessin’.”

“Guessing, more like pullin’ out your ass.” Even as V grumbled her retort, she knew Johnny could feel the seed of doubt he’d planted start to grow roots. She  _ had _ been ignoring little things: lines of static, glitching optics, small headaches. “I’ll go see Yawen too, see if she can hook me up with a larger dose.”

“After taking me to the Afterlife, right?”

“Yeah, Johnny.” She shot him both finger guns. “After I let you live it up on my time.”

“I’ll be gentle, promise.”

“Uh huh.” 

Johnny glanced up at Panam as she approached, choosing that moment to fade out while V was distracted. The Aldecaldo had taken her hair down and V was surprised by how long it was, hitting her just above the waist in fine locs ornamented with bits of metal. She’d put her jacket on to insulate her from the cooling desert temps, but still had her hands tucked underneath her arms. 

“What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?” she asked. 

V shrugged, “Was havin’ a smoke, bout to turn it in for the night.”

“Cassidy makes some damn fine chili, doesn’t he?”

“Best I’ve ever had,” V said truthfully. She was a lousy cook, herself. All those nights by the road had been fueled by canned beans and protein bars with the occasional treat of fruit leather. Back in the city, she subsided on instant noodles and whatever takeout was easiest on the way home. She watched Panam lean against the truck beside her and they both turned their attention to the stars.

Her friend broke the silence. “Once we get the basilisk together, I want you to do the honor of taking her on her maiden voyage.”

“Huh, me? Why?”

Panam gave her a wily look, “So you’ll get bugged if Carol missed anything in the system, of course.” 

V laughed, “Right, whatever you say.” 

“But really. Couldn’t have done this without you, figured it was only right. Thanks for your help.” 

V sucked her teeth, humbled and flattered and…  _ happy _ , all at once. She nudged her friend with her elbow and got a nudge in return. “Anytime, Pan.” 

They walked back to camp together and took a bedroll from Bobby as he passed them out from the backseat of his car. Mitch had already turned in for the night, so by the time everyone was situated, V was the last to lay down. She tucked an arm beneath her head and scrolled through her messages, landing on a new one from River. It was a picture of Nibbles curled up in his lap. His chrome hand was resting between the cat’s ears, slightly blurred to indicate movement. He’d promised to feed and water the needy creature, but he’d evidently been roped into more than he bargained for.

>> Told you he’d warm up to ya <3

She’d barely had time to press send before River’s response came through.

> You were right. But now I don’t want to move him  
>> Then don’t :)   
> Miss you. 

V smiled and snapped a quick picture of herself blowing a kiss. 

>> Miss you too, Riv. I owe ya for catsitting  
> Do I get to choose my reward?  
>> Depends. What do you want?  
> What do you think about taking a day off? Just you and me, maybe some clay pigeons and a case of beer ;]  
>> Now you’re talkin   
> It’s a date, then. See you this weekend?  
>> Preem. I’ll pick you up  
> On your bike... please, V. I’m serious  
> > No, not on the Arch. You’ll see :)  
> Well now I’m curious  
>> G’nite! xoxo

V shut down the interface and stretched out her legs, River’s next text superimposing over her view of the stars. 

> Night babe

  
  


**09:48 27 Jan 2077**

  
  


“Take the turret! We need to shoot that coupling,” Panam shouted. She was practically wrapped around the steering wheel with anxiety- the train wasn’t going to be able to keep pace with the Militech convoy while pulling weight. V jacked into the combat suite and oriented as quickly as she could, swiveling the gun to aim at the spot where the cab was linked to another car. She pumped a volley of bullets directly at the joining. Despite the bumpy ride, her aim proved true and the hitch broke away in sparks.

“Bullseye,” V purred. Dead weight gone, the engine car surged ahead and matched the lead truck for speed. It hid the pursuit of nomad vehicles well enough that when Mitch pulled out to block the road, one of the escort vans braked so abruptly that it fishtailed, colliding with another to cripple the movement of the entire convoy. Heavily armed soldiers poured onto the tarmac. V counted the bodies as she clambered to a perch leaning out of the window, steadying her Achilles against one shoulder. Down the sights, she lined up her first kill. With a few well-placed rounds, a corpo closing on Mitch dropped in a mist of blood. 

Behind their ranks, soldiers were gathering under cover of bulletproof doors left ajar. She grabbed a frag grenade from her harness and pulled the linchpin, aiming to roll it beneath the front of the van. The engine was still running, triggering an explosion that killed several and knocked more back- easy targets for Bobby and Cassidy. 

“ _Damn_ , V!” Panam praised as she parked the truck. 

V climbed out of the window, boots hitting asphalt at a sprint. She covered the nomads as they overtook ground, shooting out tires as she passed to snuff out any attempt to escape. This stretch of highway would be a graveyard. Her optics brought up the fuzzy outline of a crouching enemy on Cassidy’s flank, highlighting a weak point- a gap between the kevlar of his vest and his helmet. She darted behind the car that was his cover, making enough noise that he turned just in time to catch a bullet in the exposed plane of his throat. He crumpled in on himself with a gurgle and V vaulted over his body after the next target. 

Her adrenaline was pumping, a rush in her ears punctuated by gunfire. Discharged carbon filled her lungs. It was a battle hymn that carried with every pull of the trigger, each life taken quickening the tempo. She crouched beside a fallen combatant and grabbed a mag from his vest, slapping it home before taking on the final push. Militech’s ranks were dwindling, cut off from backup. It never failed to surprise her how corpo types refused to surrender, going down swinging even in the most dire straits. 

“Behind you, V,” Carol’s voice filtered over comms. 

She spun, but it was too late. Kevlar-plated knuckles connected an uppercut to her jaw, sending her staggering back a few paces as blood filled her mouth. Her enemy was bare-faced, maybe twenty years old, and his wide green eyes garnered fleeting sympathy. What a way to go, to die in his first firefight. She spat blood in his face and seized the opportunity of momentary blindness to return his method of combat: she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward into a thrust of her knee, knocking the wind clean out of him. Pained groans after impact were a fabrication of cinema- that breathless state rarely made much more than a squeak as the body scrambled to regain respiratory function. He rolled to the ground, his face the picture of agony. 

V bent to pick up his dropped pistol, chambering a bullet. Poor bastard was so green that he’d carried an unprimed weapon into combat. She pressed the muzzle against his forehead and pulled the trigger, moving on while still a little punch-drunk.

There were only a few soldiers left, but they were being quickly dispatched by the Aldecaldos. Her urgency bled away as she wiped her chin and puffed a breath to move saturated strands of hair out of her line of vision. A final shot rung out over the crackling of flames, Mitch patching in a moment later with the all-clear. She heard his voice outside of the comm and glanced aside to realize he’d just noticed her standing there. 

“Nice little cut you got there,” he told her, holstering his weapon. 

She tongued the wounds. Her teeth had clipped the inside of her cheek and the edge of her tongue before spitting. “It’s a fuckin’ bleeder, damnit.”

He looked none worse for the wear and neither did Panam as she jogged up, breathless and grinning. “Need a bandaid, V?” she teased, “Let’s go. Mitch, you’re on the transport. Bobby will take your car.”

“Yes ma’am!” Mitch hauled off and V followed Panam back to the Thorton, quickly taking up her spot in the passenger side. They tore away from the scene with excited chatter over their shared frequency. 

V had almost leveled out when Panam glanced over at her, that same smile plastered to her face. “That was smoother than silk, my friend.”

“You expected anything else?” V asked. She’d stashed the Achilles in the floorboard and was kicked back with an elbow cocked on the window. V made it look like it was just another Wednesday.

“Yeah, I was. I’m beginning to think you’re my good luck charm.”

V flourished a bow of her upper body. “Glad I could be of service. That was just half the battle, though. You’ve still got Saul to square off with.”

“Alright, buzzkill. I don’t suppose you’re also a gifted diplomat?”

“‘Fraid not,” V chuckled, turning her head to watch the desert whip by. Her mouth tasted like iron and she was already thinking about what kind of drink she wanted to wash it down with when she remembered that she still had her promise to Johnny to fulfill. And before that- a different one, unspoken: she’d have to tell River what she was doing in case things went sideways. “Hey, Pan. Can you do me a solid?”

“Anything.”

“Gonna be… out of pocket for a bit tonight. Think you could hold on to my ride for me?”

Panam scrutinized her, “Out of pocket? What, are you planning on celebrating without me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Gotta take care of somethin’ in the city, don’t wanna chip the paint.”

“Hmm. Mysterious, but alright. I’ll treat her like one of my own.”

V mumbled her thanks before looking back out into the landscape. Ahead, the clusters of tents and vehicles of the Aldecaldo camp were coming into view, scattered as they were on the hillside. Mitch and Bobby placed bets on how Saul’s shakedown was going to go over comms while Carol was quick to remind them that there was still the matter of the trucks to dispose of. Cassidy had an idea of what they were going to do with them after the Basilisk was unloaded, but he didn’t feel like sharing with the group just yet.

At her side, Panam tensed as they pulled up to camp. Saul was waiting. 

“You got this,” V encouraged, receiving a distracted nod as Panam put the truck in park and killed the engine. The nomad leader was glaring through the windshield- first at his loose cannon sister, and then at V. He broke off to watch the Militech trucks roll in. 

Panam was the first to get out and approached him with her head held high. V followed, producing a cigarette and lighting up before anyone could ask her anything. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Saul asked. His desert-tanned arms were crossed and his face was set in a scowl.

“Exactly what it looks like- the Basilisk,” Panam replied evenly. 

“You think we don’t have enough to worry about?” he seethed through grit teeth. “The Raffens could rear their heads any minute, and now we’ve got Militech to worry about. Shit, you can see those trucks from miles away.”

The lines of Panam’s posture stiffened and elongated until the tension finally snapped. She unleashed the tongue-lashing that had been building ever since he’d vetoed the plan the day before. “Stop it!  _ Fuck! _ Would you just shut up already? Do you want to serve corporations forever? Fine, go right ahead- we’ll leave the Basilisk as a souvenir of what this family used to be.” V let out a curl of smoke on her breath, exchanging a look with Mitch, but Panam wasn’t done. “Or you know what? Maybe next time we’re attacked, we’ll be able to fight back.” 

Saul steeped in the pregnant pause following her words, glancing at the faces of his family- then at V- before speaking, “We’re gonna hold a family meeting after I’m done with Biotechnica. To discuss this, discuss  _ you _ . Until then, I want these trucks gone.”

Panam stepped after him when he turned to leave, “And the basilisk? Can we put it together?”

He called over his shoulder, “Do what you want, just get out of my sight.”

She faced her team, divvying up assignments. They set out on their tasks, leaving her alone with V, who flicked her cigarette with an appraising smile and said, “That went better than I expected.”

Panam laughed, “Actually? It went better than I thought it would, too.”

“Today’s a turning point for the Aldecaldos,” V mused, looking off in the direction of Night City. “The winds are changin’. Can’t wait to see how this plays out.”

“However the dice fall, I’m glad you’re here,” Panam responded. “Come back when you’re done with… whatever it is you’re doing, okay?”

“Yeah,” V said. “Yeah, I will. See you, Pan.” She went to collect the Arch from where she’d left it in Mitch’s shop tent and walked it out of the encampment, dreading what waited her at the end of this particular road. She couldn’t decide what was worse- explaining what she was about to do to River, or actually handing the wheel over to Silverhand. Whatever the case, a long day was about to turn into a long night. She kicked up the stand and revved the Arch to life, guiding it towards the highway. 


	13. Chapter 13

**21:49 27 Jan 2077**

  
  


V still wasn’t sure about the deal she’d made with Johnny, but a promise was a promise and a merc was only as good as their word. She paced near the stairwell leading to the Afterlife as she brought up her contact list. It would have been easy enough to keep River out of the loop and make Johnny swear not to answer any calls, but she couldn’t get his wounded expression out of her head from the night she’d returned home. There was no telling what sort of trouble awaited her through the doorway of the bar. Sucking in her lower lip, she connected the call. 

After two rings that felt like an eternity, he answered. He was in his truck- probably on a case- and she could hear a ship horn in the distance. Kabuki docks, maybe. “Hey, V,” he greeted her with a smile, looking up from what she thought was paperwork. He’d been working a lot of late nights recently- the downfall of a fresh biz venture.

She scraped up a smile in return, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hi, River.” 

“Well, I know that look. What’s going on?”

“You are…  _ way _ too perceptive.” V was already digging through her pockets for a cigarette to soothe her rattled nerves and lit it up while gathering her thoughts. Exhaling a ribbon of smoke, she finally said, “I’m gonna be off the map for a bit. Few hours, tops. I think.”

River set his work down, thumbing his stubble. “You think? Everything alright?” 

“I’m about to do something really fuckin' gonk.”

He made a thoughtful noise, “Is this one of those ‘you don’t want me to ask’ situations, or-?”

“Nah, I’m gonna tell you. Promised I would.” She inhaled deeply, her next words coming out in a puff. “I’m gonna let Johnny take the wheel for a bit. He thinks he can shake some intel out of an old friend of his to settle a score.” 

“You’re settling scores for Silverhand now?” River chuckled, but didn’t seem as surprised as she thought he would. “Sometimes I think back to our first job, you teasin’ me about having a good heart, and wish I could go back and call you out on yours.”

V couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of how that would have gone down. “That woulda been a short ride.” 

“I dunno, you needed me enough to spill your client’s name.” 

“Mhm. Still do,” she admitted, and all of her plucked nerves finally quit resonating. River was definitely the type of guy that needed to  _ feel  _ needed, which was incentive enough to sidestep her pride and be straight with him. 

He looked fondly at her down the holo. “I’m not gonna try and talk you out of it, but I hope you set some conditions. And how does this work, exactly? You just… pass the baton?”

“I have some pills, eh, pseudoendotrizine. It’ll knock me out and give him control.” 

“Woah,” River said, “Pump the brakes. Pills? What’ll that do to the biochip?” 

V’s smile tightened and she looked down at her boots. “Like I said, fuckin' gonk because I dunno. Didn’t tell Yawen about it ‘cause I didn’t think I’d ever touch that stash.” 

He sat back, looking out the window. After a long moment, his shoulders sagged and he glanced at her, “I’ll call you in a few hours, you got your line on autoconnect?”

She double-checked, “Yep, three rings. Why?”

“Best case scenario, you’ll be done and on your way home- worst, you’ll need to be pulled out of there. Or Johnny’ll need somebody to keep him honest.”

V was impressed. “Ace idea, detective. I’m at the Afterlife, but there’s no tellin’ if he’ll stay put.” 

He winced, “The merc bar? Shit.” 

“I’m guessin’ you’re not exactly welcome here?”

“Eh, no. But I’ll figure somethin’ out.” 

“Thanks, River,” V said, grinding the smoke under her heel.    
  
He picked his work up from the passenger seat, but there was no chance he’d be able to concentrate worth a damn. “I’ve got your back. Hit me up on the holo if you’re done before I call.” 

“Will do. See ya.” 

“Bye, V.”

The line dropped and she tugged her jacket closer to her midsection before descending the stairs. She found the pill in her pocket and rolled it between her fingers as she walked past the bouncer guarding the double doors. Bass vibrated the riveted metal beneath the soles of her boots. It was a decent crowd tonight, a hotspot of rough-looking edgerunners. Rogue’s booth was unoccupied. 

V let out a shaky exhale and stared at the pseudoendotrizine in her palm. Despite the rebellion of body and mind, she rolled her neck and dry-swallowed the pill. Gradually, colors and sounds pooled together before entirely winking out.

+

Johnny came roaring into consciousness like he’d been given a shot of pure adrenaline. It took a moment to get his bearings, blinking eyes that weren’t his against the neon green and brushed steel of the Afterlife. Some things just didn’t change, even when perceiving them through an entirely different body. He glanced down at his hands- V’s hands- sighing through her nose when they shook as he turned them over. She had long fingers with short, black nails and palms tooled with chrome and monowire ports further up the inside of her forearms. Her palms were cold and clammy, unsurprising when factored in with her dry throat and tense shoulders. She hadn’t wanted to cosign this ploy at all, but it seemed that his story about the dog tags really did get through that thick head of hers.

V hadn’t taken any chances with her getup, either. She wore a long-sleeved combat top underneath her leather jacket and a pair of cargo pants: these were threads that wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention, and for that he was grateful. It wouldn’t do to knock some pushy gonk flat on his first night of freedom since… well, since too fucking long. V had parked him close to the bar, so he took that as permission to get good and loose before he had to get down to biz. He swaggered over to a stool and gestured to the bartender as he took a perch.

“Hey, V,” she said as he approached. “How’s things? You look different, did you fuss with your hair, or-”

Johnny searched for her name in the recesses of his recollection and came back empty handed, serving up a grin instead. That hurt the inside of his-  _ her _ \- mouth, and he tongued a few cuts on her cheek.  _ Pain. Huh _ . He dragged in a breath and filled those lungs, talking through a satisfied sigh, “Fuck, it’s good to be back.”

“Need a drink that bad?” Claire- _that_ was her name- leaned on the bar. “What can I get ya?” 

“Tequila old fashioned. Top it off with a beer, sprinkle in some chili.” 

She got to work, making smalltalk, “Silverhand special. Been awhile since anyone ordered that.”

Johnny wasn’t surprised. Ever since waking up in V’s head, he’d been looking for familiar names or faces and found only Rogue. His old crew and all the headlines from decades ago had faded from both memory and word of mouth. The only thing that seemed to ring any actual bells was what he’d done at Arasaka tower, and they called him a terrorist for it. It left a bad taste in his mouth. All those sacrifices, all of his railing against the corporate stranglehold- and for what? Fifty years down the line, Arasaka was still top dog and all of the little people seemed complacent with the way things were.

Claire slid his drink across the bar and Johnny declined his head in thanks before knocking it back in a few long pulls that burned-  _ damn _ , they burned so good. He gestured for another and hooked V’s boot in the rung of the barstool, getting nice and comfortable. 

Several drinks later, Claire slid him the bottle of tequila. “I dunno what you’ve been through, but maybe you oughtta just have the whole thing, huh?” 

“Now we’re talkin’,” Johnny said, searching the pockets of V’s jacket for a smoke. She’d left the pack and lighter in the same spot. Sweet kid- so thoughtful. As he lit up, he asked the bartender, “Cassius Ryder. Name mean anything to you?”

She paused in thought, “Mhm, the tattoo artist? He’s got a salon in Watson, off Pershing street.”

“Preem. Think you could call me a cab?” 

Claire looked amused, not quite able to put her finger on what had gotten into V, “Gonna get some more ink? Sure, I’ll dial.” She stepped away to make the call, leaving Johnny to his cig and tequila. Being able to feel things firsthand- now  _ that  _ was a luxury he’d overlooked every day of his life. He saw the drinks as something of a favor to his vessel, evening out the rage and panic that threatened to consume him.

It would be exactly on brand for Johnny to doublecross her when he’d just earned a modicum of trust, and it took everything he had not to waltz across the city to Arasaka’s doorstep and settle the score himself. A gonk thing to do, and he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted more than to pump a bullet directly into Smasher’s ugly mug. V had let it slip that he was Yorinubu’s muscle these days, and with the expensive chip in her head, she would have been perfect leverage to secure a face-to-face. He looked down at her hand wrapped around the bottle and grimaced. Hurting her would be like kicking a faithful dog, so the backdoor would be the route he’d have to settle for. 

“Should be outside in five,” Claire said as she returned to her station. He got up, taking the tequila with him, and headed out to the alley. V smoked bougie cigs- the kind with a pink band around the filter- but despite their aesthetic, they were right on par with cowboy killers. He took a drag and held the smoke in his lungs as he ascended the stairs. The alcohol tolerance of this body was pitiful, but he swallowed another mouthful of tequila anyway, coughing up smoke.

The taxi was a beat-up Colby with a bent fender, but he couldn’t have cared less as he slid into the backseat and kicked his legs up. “Watson. Pershing street.” The cabbie bobbed his head and turned the radio up. The clunker rolled out onto the street to the dulcet tones of… ponpon shit. 

Johnny took another swig, rolling his head to watch the lights blur by. V’s nose against her shoulder, he could smell something warm and spicy. Her perfume. He vaguely recalled the little bottle on the bathroom mirror and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. It had been a long time since he’d smelled anything that good. The hair against his borrowed cheek was soft and cool and he hesitantly ran a hand through it, enjoying the sensation of smooth strands slipping through his fingers. His better judgement caught up with him a moment later and he straightened up to tip the bottle for another drink.

They were already in Watson, cruising down a familiar side street. V had visited the ripperdoc on one occasion, when Wakako offered her a Tyger Claw mod. She’d taken one look at the specs and decided her Vik-installed chrome was far superior. Something about Ryder had made her skin crawl, as well- good instincts. The guy was scum. 

When they pulled up to the clinic, Johnny flicked the payment over and his eyes lingered on V’s balance for a milisec. The kid was doing well for herself, flush with eddies after all those gigs. He wondered briefly why she was still holed up in that shitkicker roach nest of an apartment if she was doing so well for herself. The answer found him with a little contemplation as he strolled into the shop: she liked the anonymity her modest digs supplied in a city that murmured her name. Despite being in the big leagues, at her core she was still that windblown nomad that rolled into town like an errant tumbleweed. 

The receptionist waved him into the back room and Cassius looked up with a slow, oily smirk. “So you’re wanting me to cut on you after all,” he said, removing his headphones.

“Ain’t here for chrome, Ryder,” he responded, swaggering up to the chair and falling into it. “Need some intel.”

“Not sure what kinda intel you think you can get from me, sweetheart, but I don’t talk off the clock.” He adjusted his glasses and gestured to the machine rigged to the arm of the chair.

Johnny crossed V’s ankles and lit up another cigarette. “Alright, gimme a tattoo then. Will that loosen your lips?”

“Gonna be expensive,” the doc drawled, pulling up a stool. “What’re you thinkin’?”

Johnny reached over and pulled a sheet of paper from a stack of documents, turned it over, and grabbed a pen. He smoked as he waited for inspiration to strike. V had a lot of tattoos, all beautifully done and blending together like one large work of art. If he was going to put something on her body, it’d have to stand out. After he was gone, he’d want her to remember him. Smiling to himself, he quickly scrawled out his idea and pushed the paper over to Cassius.

“Johnny, eh?” the ripper asked, clicking his tongue. “Lucky gonk.” He pulled on a pair of gloves and gestured for her to put her arm in the machine. 

Johnny obliged, cocking V’s head as he asked, “Say, Cassius. I’m drawin’ a blank. What was the name of that fucker who came to you to get all that work done on his arm? Rare order, wanted somethin’ top-notch with enough dexterity to shred an axe?”

The ripper paused as he filled the ink. “How long ago?”

“Shit, had to be about fifty, fifty-five years. You were just a punk back then, a punk about half your current size.”

Cassius sniffed, “Only one person you could be talkin’ about, but nobody knows that story. Johnny Silverhand took it to the grave with him.”

Johnny sat back, smug, and took another drink. With a hiss, he said, “Well ain’t ya gonna welcome me back, Cas?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” The doc’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “Silverhand? No fuckin’ way. How? I mean,  _ nice _ body, but-” 

“Can it about V, alright? This is between you n’ me.” 

Cassius started the machine with a few taps of his interface before sinking into a stool. The pistons whirred, needles weaving ink into the blank canvas of V’s bicep. Johnny hardly felt it, numbed as he was by all the booze, and smoked leisurely while the doc tried to get his conversational bearings. 

He finally glanced at Johnny, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “What kinda intel you need?”

“Need a way to get at Smasher. The name of an intermediary, maybe.”

Cassius mulled it over, finally responding, “How ‘bout Jeremiah Grayson? Heard he’s an operator for Smasher- but you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Hear what?” Johnny joked. “Guess you rubbed elbows with the guy at some point?”

“You could say we had somethin’ in common- he helped himself to my sloppy seconds. Ruby Collins’ tight ass.” The doc chuckled to himself, rolling back to peek at the screen. The design was nearly applied. It had been crudely drawn but had the appeal of all oldschool shit, like Johnny.

“This Ruby. Where can I find ‘er?”

“She’s a stripper at the bar down the street, you could pop right over after this beauty’s done. Bet she’s workin’ tonight.”

Johnny glanced down at V’s arm, flexing the fingers attached to it. He was going to get an earful for this, he was certain, but not as much of an earful as he was going to catch for shmoozing a working girl when V found out. She wasn’t the type to juggle lovers- she could barely sort out her feelings for the one she had. Riding backseat in her head while she struggled through her emotions was a torture that not even Saburo’s twisted sense of vengeance could have concocted. The cop, despite valiant efforts at stoicism, was an open book with words just spilling off the page, and V? She was a hopeless mute that banked on her doe eyes returning his sentiments enough to satisfy. 

None of that was relevant, though. He just hoped Ruby swung both ways. The fallout would sort itself when he could explain his motives to V.

“All done, man. This one’s on the house, for old time’s sake.” Cassius deactivated the device and Johnny pulled her arm out to study the fresh tattoo. It was a heart with an arrow through it, scrawled with the words “Johnny + V”. The corner of V’s mouth twitched as Johnny glanced back up, but he hid it with a swig of tequila.

“Thanks, choom. See ya ‘round.” Johnny was able to get V’s legs underneath him, but only just. He strolled out of the clinic and back into the night. He knew the club Cassius was referring to- V had met a fixer there once- and it took his tequila-logged brain a few moments to grind out his bearings. He almost had it when V’s phone began to ring. Her fancy-ass optics brought up the cop’s ID. 

_ Well, fuck _ . He knew V’s dialer was set to connect automatically, but he wasn’t familiar with the interface enough to do anything about it before River’s voice filtered through the line. 

“Hey, V,” he said. There was something… off, about his tone. Johnny stuffed her hands in her pockets and strolled casually down the sidewalk in the direction of the strip joint.

“Heeey, Riv,” he said, doing his best impression of the woman whose body he was wearing.

The cop’s image in the holo gave nothing away. “Finish that thing yet?”

Johnny laughed, remembering to throw V’s head back. “Sitch got a little complicated. Got one more stop.”

“Sorry to hear that. Everything okay?” River crossed his arms, and Johnny could tell he was looking over her shoulder, trying to figure out where she was.

“It’s peachy.”

The cop’s eye narrowed. “Alright, Johnny. V woulda told me it was aces. Aren’t you overstayin’ your welcome?”

_ Fuck _ . The jig was up. Johnny dropped the pretense and started looking for the manual device in V’s pockets. He was sure he’d be able to figure out how to turn it off, but her hands wouldn’t cooperate with all the booze. With a grunt of frustration, he met River’s eyes. “Whaddya want, man? This doesn’t involve you.”

“I want you to keep your word and delta.” 

Johnny chuckled, producing another cigarette instead of the phone. He lit it up, backing V’s body against a nondescript brick wall. “I ain’t done yet.”

“You were supposed to get your info and hand the wheel back over, right? That was the agreement.” River slid into the driver’s seat of his truck and fired up the engine. “I’m gonna give you ten minutes to get back to her place. If you’re not there by the time I am, I’m gonna hunt you down.”

Johnny dragged in a breath, then puffed smoke into the holo. “I’d hate to kill you with your own girlfriend’s hands.”

River’s brow creased. “Drunk as you are? Good luck.”

“Listen, choom. I got no beef with you- how ‘bout you let me wrap it up before gettin’ all outta pocket, save us both the trouble?”

“No. I promised her I’d set you straight.”

“Don’t have the intel I need yet, but I got a lead I’m workin’.” Maybe if he appealed to her boyfriend’s good sense, he’d let it ride. 

River inhaled through his nose, scrubbing a hand over his face with a growl. “Whaddya mean? You been fuckin’ around this whole time?”

“Dick in hand. Just told ya I had a lead,” Johnny said, grinning. “She trusted me enough to let me do this.  _ You _ need to trust me enough to let me finish. After all, if I don’t get what I need now, I’ll just convince her to let me do it later. Which would mean another pill.”

That got River’s attention. He glared down the holo.

“Think she can take it?” Johnny asked. 

“How long do you need?”

“Relax. I’ll have her back in one piece by mornin’.” When no response came, Johnny took that as agreement. “ _ Aces, _ then, as V would say. Glad you could see reason.” 

River sighed, “She’s gonna have my ass for this.”

“Get in line,” Johnny responded. “I’ll let ‘er know it was my idea.” The line went dead and he flicked his cig away, continuing to the club. 

It was just as seedy as he remembered. All neon strobes and naked women, cheap drinks, loud music. He sidled up to the bar and started asking around for Ruby, ordering a pair of tequilas between queries. One of the patrons swiveled around to point her out on the stage and Johnny followed the gesture, eyes landing on a pretty little thing outfitted in gold. The lights moved off of the shiny material in patterns that made V’s optics strain, but he approached with the drinks to enjoy the show regardless. 

She noticed him right away, flicking her hair over her shoulder with a roll of her hips. The way her eyes roved up V’s body put his worries about her sexuality to rest, at least. Ruby bent at the knees, brushing her fingers along V’s forearm seductively and raking downwards to take the glass. She took a slow sip, arching her back as she straightened. 

“Come see me on your break, doll. Make it worth your while,” Johnny said. She bit her lip, glance flicking to V’s expensive combat threads, and then nodded before turning back to the pole. 

Johnny filled the wait with shots, getting friendly with a booth full of regulars. Not the best idea, as V’s tolerance was maxed out and he stumbled to the bathroom on her shaky legs to empty her stomach into the toilet. Kid hadn’t eaten anything since the previous day, so it was all bile and alcohol that made her throat raw. He scrubbed an arm across her mouth and went to wash off her face, pulling back long enough to watch the water drip from her chin. The face staring back at him gave pause. 

He ran a finger down the bridge of her nose, tracing the dusting of freckles on her olive complexion. It was anyone’s guess what color her irises had been originally, before the aim-assist implants. He liked to think they’d been a warm, inviting brown- the complete opposite from the colorless glass reflecting the fluorescents overhead. She looked younger than her twenty-eight years with straight eyebrows above angled eyes and full, soft lips. Over her shoulder, two gonks pushed the door open looking for trouble. They’d found it.

“Hey,” one said sharply, yanking Johnny by the shoulder. “Ruby’s on the clock, bitch. Keep your fuckin’ paws off her.” 

Johnny sized him up. Fucker was tall and built like a panzer, but V was a good half a foot shorter than his own stature had been. His old body would’ve been a more level playing field. Regardless, her knuckles itched to connect to the side of the bouncer’s face.

“Mhm,” he managed, feigning consideration. “Like to see you try and stop me.” Johnny cranked that fist back and swung. If the blow landed, he didn’t feel it. Next thing V’s optics picked up was a split-screen littered with static: tile floor, carpet, and a flash of Ruby’s face. “Be waitin’ outside,” he told her. She fluttered her eyelashes, clearly reveling in the attention. Small-time stripper like that, he wasn’t surprised she took the dust-up as a compliment.

The bouncer unceremoniously dumped V’s body in the alleyway and Johnny grunted, rolling to hold her aching ribs. She was gonna feel like shit when she came to. A shock of guilt lanced his gut and he turned her head to puke up another swell of bile with a hoarse curse. Hearing her pain-thinned voice come out of his own mouth was… uncomfortable. He adjusted himself to sit against the bumper of a parked vehicle and produced another smoke from her jacket. Her interface flashed with an incoming message from River. 

> Clock’s tickin, Johnny.

He ignored it. 

Before he’d finished the cig, Ruby strolled out of the door into the alleyway. “Waiting for me?” she demurred. Johnny leveraged himself against the car to stand upright.

“Let’s go back to my place,” he said, scrounging up his best winning smile and allowing his gaze to dip to her cleavage. She’d put on a leopard print dress that just barely crested the bottom of her ass. Her hands were soft and cool against V’s heated skin as she ran her hands up her midsection beneath the combat turtleneck. Ruby’s kiss tasted like cigarettes and whiskey. He pulled back a centimeter to put a fist through the driver’s side window and popped the lock from the inside. He jerked his head towards it, inviting her to drive.

As they got in, Ruby asked, “Where to?”

Johnny thought about it. “Martin street, but take the long way.” That would give him enough time to extract the information he needed.

She started the car and he leaned back in the seat, blinking hard against the swimming in V’s head. He was beginning to think he may have overdone it. Ruby’s cheap perfume was aggravating the first pangs of a headache. The Kiroshis were fuzzy with static, trying to compensate for the sad sack of meat they were installed in, and he dug through the glovebox looking for painkillers. He found something better: a pair of sunglasses. He slipped the aviators on and quirked an eyebrow at the stripper.

“Looks good on you,” she said, pulling out a cigarette. “Got a light?”

Johnny found V’s lighter and gave it a flick, holding the flame steady while she breathed in. Her leg fell to the side as she drove, exposing the soft skin of her thighs to his scrutiny. V would be pissed, but he was far past the point of giving a damn. He rested a hand on her inner knee and found that she was exactly as silky as she looked beneath the fishnets. The weave was loose enough that he could loop his fingers into it, so he dragged that hand further down, following the heat. 

She looked over at him, a little sigh escaping with a curl of smoke, encouraging his searching touch. Her panties were some sort of synthetic satin material that easily slipped away when he found his intended target. Ruby’s cunt was already slick and hot and he felt a thrill of victory.  _ Still got it, Silverhand. _

He was so distracted that he barely registered her gasp when a car turned into the road ahead. She slammed the brakes, but it was too late. Impact jarred them both as the vehicles collided in the intersection and V’s optics fizzled out.

Unconsciousness was a funny thing when you were a construct that couldn’t keep tabs on the passage of time. It had either been a few seconds or an hour or maybe fifty years, he couldn’t be sure, but when he came to, Ruby was limp against the drivers side door with blood smattered beneath her nose. He flexed an arm experimentally and found that he was none worse for the wear.

Johnny dragged himself out of the vehicle, urged into action by the smell of smoke under the hood, and walked stiffly around the other side to help Ruby out. He’d be damned if she bit it before he could get his intel. She jolted awake as she was being pulled from the vehicle and brushed him off. Alarm followed.

“We- we could have died,” she mumbled, looking back at the wreckage. “Holy fuck.” 

“Hey, you’re fine.” Johnny led her to the guardrail and helped her slump against it, keeping his hands on her shoulders. Her breathing was quickening as panic set in. 

“I need to call, I should call-”

“Ruby, focus. I need to talk to Grayson.”

She was in shock, not processing the words on any level deeper than the superficial. Perfect. Johnny guessed she wouldn’t remember any of this conversation when she looked back on it later. She wet her lips and pulled a condom out of her bra, producing a pen to scrawl a word onto the package.

Johnny turned it over when she pressed it into his palm, reading, “Ebunike?”

Ruby nodded and stood on trembling legs, leaning heavily against him until she felt strong enough to walk on her own. He clearly wasn’t getting anything else out of her, so he let her go and split in the opposite direction while digging through his pockets for the phone. Even though he couldn’t make heads or tails of it, he knew someone who could.

**11:08 28 Jan 2077**

  
  


V groaned as she opened her eyes and immediately shut them again when overhead lights spiked pain through the back of her skull. Her body felt like it had been run through a meat grinder. She was supine in an unfamiliar bed, thankfully clothed in the same threads she’d pulled on the night before, though her jacket and boots were absent. Missed calls and messages scrolled against the back of her eyelids that she couldn’t scrape together enough focus to read. It felt like her lungs were coated in grime, so she turned her head to try and clear her throat, aggravating the buildup enough that a cough drummed into a full fit of wheezing and hacking. 

She pulled her hand away from her mouth and slit an eye open, letting her head drop back against the pillows when she saw blood in the crease of her palm. 

“Spit blood first thing every morning?” It was a feminine voice that asked the question, smooth and mature like aged bourbon. V struggled through the pain to glance across the room, finding Rogue seated backwards in a chair, watching her.

A sudden flash of anger only served to make her head throb. Johnny had _ lied _ . Whatever he’d gotten into the night before, it sure as fuck wasn’t what they agreed to. Her mouth was drier than desert sand and her neck ached something fierce- comparable to whiplash. As if that wasn’t enough, her arm stung like road rash. “Talk about somethin’-  _ anythin’ _ \- else,” she told Rogue as she draped a forearm across her face. Her cheeks were hot and her eyes stung. She’d trusted that motherfucker, swallowed his whole bullshit tale about the Mexican conflict.

Rogue obliged, “First time you walked up, I knew there was something familiar about you.”

V grit her teeth, “I’m guessin’ Johnny told you everything.” She paused, a wave of anxiety hitting as she dropped her voice, “We didn’t- uh-”

“Come on, kid. You’re cute, but I could be your mother. He called me early morning, ‘course, I thought he was you. Thought you’d gone completely whacked.”

She rolled her head to the side, moving her arm. Her eyelids were red. “So you came to see for yourself? Front row seats to the shitshow.” 

Rogue stood and crossed the room, folding her arms. “Mhm. And I found Johnny Silverhand.” 

“Smasher,” V said, “He tell you about him?”

“Yes. Didn’t know he’d come back to NC. Johnny found some way to get at him.”

V thought hard, recalling just a name. “Grayson.”

“Jeremiah Grayson,” Rogue confirmed. “Works for Smasher. Johnny got a tip off some stripper, don’t ask me how.” She watched V’s face contort in a flash of pain or disgust, maybe a combination of the two, and continued, “Ebunike. Just one word. Still, lemme see what I can do with it… we’re gonna get that son of a bitch.”

V moved to stand, asking, “Can I help?” but Rogue stopped her. 

“In your state? You’re useless. I’ll holobuzz you when I learn something.” She approached the bedside, reaching down to put her cold hands on either side of V’s head. The temperature disparity was enough to make her whimper, but Rogue held firm while she searched her face, sharp eyes not missing a single detail. “Can’t believe that bastard’s in your head somewhere.” Evidently satisfied after several long moments, she finally stood and left. 

The door had barely closed when V emptied the contents of her stomach onto the floor. When she straightened and carefully swung her legs over the bed, Johnny’s silhouette appeared in her line of sight. He stepped back, having the grace to look sympathetic. 

“Oh, fuck,” he said. 

V wrinkled her nose. “Go away,” she managed to whisper. It came out with force, more of a hiss than actual words, and she pulled on her boots between bouts of nausea. If she hadn’t been so hurt- felt so betrayed- she would have let him have the asschewing of the century. But in place of anger, she felt a deep, growing  _ nothing _ . 

“V-”

“I said fuck  _ off _ , Johnny.” 

He shut his mouth and watched as she tugged on her jacket. She sagged briefly against the doorframe before gathering enough energy to head out into the daylight. It was nearly noon. She brought up her messages to read through River’s queries.

> Time’s up, asshole.

> Where are you??

There were a few missed calls as well, mostly his but also one from Panam. Evidently, Johnny had figured out how to turn off the autoconnect. She took a deep breath and dialed River while she leaned over the hallway railing. Halfway through the second ring, he picked up. His image in the holo looked pressed.

“V?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” She swallowed hard. It felt like her throat was full of jagged glass. 

River let out a sigh of relief, “Where are you? I’ll be there ASAP.”

“Flickin’ you my geonav.”

“Got it, hang tight.” 

V hung up, head too full of noise to say goodbye, and crumpled to sit on the stairs. Johnny had been right about one thing- the medical magic Yawen had worked on her was nearly gone. Her optics had taken on the same grainy cast that they used to right before a malfunction. She propped her elbows on her knees and rested her face in her hands. 

The passage of time escaped her as she dozed off, rousing when she felt large hands settle briefly on her shoulders. They moved up to ease her own off her face and she winced at River as he came into focus. He sighed through his nose, touching her cheek. “Hey. You alright?” 

“I think I know what rental cars must feel like,” she quipped and lurched forward to wrap her arms around his neck. She buried her face in the fur of his collar and breathed in his familiar scent. “That didn’t make any sense, did it?”

He gave her a halfhearted chuckle and would’ve returned her hug if he hadn’t been kneeling precariously on the stairs. The primary objective at the moment was getting her up and home to sleep off that hangover. “Made perfect sense, Johnny took you for a hell of a joyride.” 

“Did you talk to him?” 

River untangled her arms and helped her up, “Let’s talk about it in the truck.”

She walked with him, feeling feeble and weak for letting herself be guided, but the sunlight was too bright for her eyes. He opened her door and noted the soreness in her movements as she clambered inside. 

“There’s water in the cupholder and-”

“Painkillers,” V interrupted gratefully, having sat on the bottle. She murmured a ‘thank you’ and undid the cap, tapping several into her palm to swallow down with the can of water. Johnny must not have consumed anything without a heavy alcohol percentage the night before- she polished it off in record time. River felt a pang of guilt, hesitantly shutting the door and joining her in the cab.

“I’m the biggest goddamn gonk on earth,” she told him as he fired up the engine. She balled her fists into her orbital sockets. 

“No,” River said, “you’re not. He fooled me, too.”

She let her hands fall into her lap. “What do you mean?”

“Bought himself more time by tellin’ me if he didn’t get the intel he needed, you’d do it all over again. Knew exactly what to say to get me to agree to it.”

V hummed thoughtfully, “Knows you’re worried about the pills, I bet.”

“Yep.” They rode in silence for a while, River looking over to check on her occasionally as he drove. She hadn’t moved from where she was leaning against the passenger window with a hand over her eyes. 

As he pulled into the parking deck, he felt her put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. She was smiling fondly at him. “What’s that look for? I fucked up.”

“Nah, you did what you thought was best, and I love you for it.” 

River raised his eyebrows, trying to focus on parking between the lines even though his heart was hammering in his chest. “You what now?” He turned off the truck and finally met her eyes, wondering if she was even aware of the words she’d chosen. 

V was clumsy with genuine sentiment, already trying to spin what she’d just said into a joke, but his surprise made her stow the desire to wisecrack. She hadn’t realized he’d needed to hear how she felt so badly until he reacted the way he did. “I don’t love you just for doin’ what you think is best for  _ me,  _ but for…” V grunted, dragging a hand over her face in frustration when the words didn’t just materialize on their own. “You’re a good man, River. Been thinkin’ about that a lot lately.” Had she felt less terrible, she would have rambled on, but her energy reserves were already low and she settled for being straightforward.

His breath rushed out and he grinned. “I love you too, V. Have since Edgewood.”

She returned his grin. “How’d you even know? It’s not like I gave you much to work with… I wouldn’t even tell you my name.”

“‘Member when I was gettin’ ready to leave in the transport, gave you a hug?” V nodded and he continued, “You were all misty when I let you go. You're this tough, capable merc that dropped everything you were doing to help some lucky gonk you hardly knew. And after all that shit we’d just witnessed together without losin’ your nerve… I dunno. Guess it showed me you weren’t completely bulletproof. You held me together long enough to get the job done. Don’t think I’ve ever met anybody like you.”

When he looked back up from his hands, she leaned over and placed a whisper of a kiss on his cheek. “Let’s go home.” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaand smut warning towards the end :)

**18:52 28 Jan 2077**

  
  


V slept the day away after River left to chase a lead. He’d stayed just long enough for them to have lunch and apologized when his chirping holo called him back to work, but part of her was grateful he wasn’t around to fuss. Everything hurt- her body, her senses, her pride- and it took her an embarrassingly long time to strip down for a shower. As she scrubbed her body with a coarse-bristled brush, flashes of the previous night came flooding back. She evidently had gotten into an altercation at a club, taken a mystery pill, and was involved in a car accident because Johnny’d gotten the bright idea to finger-bang a stripper while she drove. It was enough to make her munch a couple of omega blockers before he could pop up and try to gaslight her anger away. 

There were other memories that muddled her understanding of his behavior, memories of Johnny looking at her in the mirror and tenderly running a finger down the bridge of her nose. She remembered him telling Cassius she was off-limits in discussion... and the tattoo he’d chosen gave her pause when she spotted it on her bicep. River would probably laugh at it, but V was indescribably pissed. It was the fuck-you cherry on top of a shit sundae. 

After her shower, she’d pulled on lounge clothes and fallen into the couch cushions. The TV droned at low volume, providing cover for the noise of her neighbors fighting in the hallway as she pounded more water. It was always the same two with some sordid tale of infidelity unfolding like a poorly scripted reality show. Nibbles hopped up to claim a spot on her abdomen and her eyes got heavy as she stroked his velvety ears. She’d read somewhere that cats purred on a frequency for healing and the cat’s vibrations were evidence enough as she slipped into a restful sleep. 

A holobuzz woke her some time later and she checked the hour: almost seven in the evening. Rubbing her eyes, she connected the call to Panam’s excited chatter. It was lucky that her head was finally clear and pain-free, because her friend was shouting to Mitch loud enough that the line distorted.

“Hey, Pan,” V said, smothering a yawn into her knuckles. 

“Hi there, sleepyhead,” Panam responded, laughter bubbling up. “Think it’s a little early for you to be snoozing, don’t you?”

“Not after the night I had. ‘Member that thing I told you about? Dragged on ‘til morning.”

Panam tilted her head with a smirk, “Never took you for a party animal. Guess this means I’ll have to put off spinning up the basilisk until tomorrow?”

“‘Fraid so, choom. I’ll be out there early, don’t wanna make ya wait too long.” 

“Alright, I think Mitch will be happy to have extra time to turn wrenches. Sunrise and not a second later, you hear?”

V fired a finger gun down the holo, “You got it.”

“Good. Rest easy, V.” Panam was grinning when she disconnected the call and V felt herself doing the same. She couldn’t wait to get behind the wheel of that monster and fire off a few shells into the desert wastes. The mere thought gave her a surge of energy and she got up to retrieve another can of water. Her omega blockers must’ve worn off during her nap, because she found Johnny standing between her and the kitchenette. 

“You gotta talk to me eventually,” he told her. 

She walked right through his image and found a drink, cracking it open. The blue bottle was still on the countertop where she’d left it and she unscrewed the cap at her leisure. “Why would I wanna do that?” she asked as she produced a pill. “Got thirty seconds to say what ya wanna say. When your time’s up, I’m taking this.”

“I did ya dirty, Val. I’m sorry.” 

Of everything he could have said, that one didn’t even orbit her expectations. She hid her surprise with another swallow of water and turned her head so that the fall of her hair would obstruct her expression. “Don’t  _ fuckin’ _ call me that. What you did was exactly on-brand for the old Johnny. I’m beginnin’ to think you haven’t changed much at all. Step on anybody to get what ya want. Includin’ me.”

“You’re right. I also entertained the thought of trading you off to ‘saka so I could get my hands on Smasher- but I didn’t. Wouldn’t do that to you.”

V clenched the pill in her fist, flicking her hair back as a lick of anger ignited into flame. “Is that supposed to… what, comfort me? Make me forgive you ‘cause ya only betrayed me a  _ little? _ I’m allowed to be pissed off about this, asshole. You tried to score with a goddamn stranger in my body, nearly landed me in the hospital with all the booze. I did you a solid and you repay me like this? Fuckin’ low.” 

Johnny could see that the conversation was deteriorating rapidly and fought his instinct to get defensive, instead crossing his arms and beginning to pace. “Shit, V,” was all he could think to say.

She continued, “Smasher ain’t even my fuckin’ problem- he’s yours.”

He stopped pacing, looking at her sidelong. All fired up like this, she reminded him of Alt after they’d hooked up at his last gig. She’d said what she had to say and just kept on gunning, driving the hurt further home. He’d been so pissed off that she hadn’t just left back then. Now, he would give anything to turn the clock back and let her chew his ass some more so she didn’t wind up dead in that netrunner chair. “I know,” he said. “Don’t bother with the blockers. I’m goin’.”

V’s nose briefly wrinkled as she grappled with making heads or tails of his surrender. On one hand, he seemed genuinely regretful that he’d pissed her off- on the other, ghosting was the coward’s way out. He’d pop back up later to gauge her mood, she was sure. It was all too easy to wait out the heat. “No you’re fuckin’ not,” she finally snapped. “What were you thinking?”

Johnny threw his hands up in frustration. “I was thinkin’ it’d been fifty years since I breathed free air, had a drink, fucked a chick, threw a punch. Did all that and was still so goddamn angry.”

V leaned against the wall, crossing one arm over her chest and taking a drink with the other. As much as she didn’t want to empathize with the shithead, what he was saying resonated. If she’d been an approximation of a spectre in someone’s head, she’d probably want to do all the shit that made her feel alive, too. The difference was that hers happened to be popping car hoods and staring at the stars.

“What’s worse is not only was I still mad, I dragged you down with me,” Johnny said. 

She made a face, feeling sorry for him despite herself. Before her resolve could waver, she swallowed the omega blocker. “We’ll jaw about this later. Right now, I need space.”

He nodded, fading out before the pill could even kick in. V huffed and raised her water to finish it off before returning to her nest of cushions on the couch. She was so soft- too soft- and it seemed she’d never learn her lesson, because the next thing she did was check for an update from Rogue.

> Any news?

The response flashed in her optics a beat later. 

>> Give me time to work, kid.

She smothered a growl, tossing the phone to the table, and pulled the blanket back over herself. 

  
  


**21:29**

  
  


V hadn’t even realized she’d fallen back asleep until she heard the door swish open. The stillness and silence of the apartment must’ve made River think she’d left, because he called her name as soon as he set foot inside. 

“Over here,” she called back, sitting up. There’d been something about his voice that perked her ears. Not quite urgency, but definitely along the lines. 

“Need your help with somethin’,” he said as he strode to where she sat, shucking his coat. His motions were a little jumpy, like he’d just had a close call. “You know a good ripper, right? Vik?”

“Why?” She was on her feet in a second, checking him over. “You hurt?”

“Not exactly.” He held out his metal hand and she took it in both of hers after flicking on the lights. The sculpted fingers seemed fine when she pushed on each joint: operational, if a little stiff. When she turned it over, she noted the absence of the metal plate that composed the upper portion of his palm. The metal tendons connecting the phalanges to the heel of his artificial hand were merely charred, but the non tension bearing wires beneath had taken heavy abuse. He was lucky the damage was isolated between two pieces of hardware rather than the spot where chrome met flesh. This wasn’t a ripperdoc-exclusive fix; anyone with a little bit of mechanical knowledge and a decent collection of tools could fix him right up. 

She hummed, peering up at his face, and he gave her a sheepish smile. “Can’t move your fingers, can you?” she asked. 

“Nope.” 

“Where’d this plate go?” She tapped the empty spot and he dug it out of his pocket. V took the piece, holding it up to the light and turning it over to try and figure out how it’d come loose. Judging by the scorch marks, she guessed he’d touched something with substantial electrical charge. The buffer of rubber composite had prevented it from traveling up his arm. She let out a slow breath and turned to find her tools. “Glad you didn’t take that shock to your ‘ganic hand.” 

“Sayin’ you can fix this?” River watched her key open the door to her armory. 

When she emerged with a beat-up old box with ‘Bakkers’ carved into the side, she responded with a wink.

He let out a laugh of disbelief, “There anything you can’t do?”

“Ah, c’mon. I can’t cook for shit.” She gestured for him to sit down, and he did. “‘Sides, if this had been any further down your arm, I wouldn’t have been able to do jack about it. Humans are way more complex than machinery. Just gotta splice a few wires, close the circuit an’ buff the marks out.” 

River watched her fold her legs underneath herself and sink down in front of him to open her toolbox. Her selection consisted of several delicate instruments, a soldering iron, and a drill with both buffing and polishing attachments. When she pulled out a small pair of wire cutters, he arched an eyebrow. “Should I be drinkin’?”

V sat back on her heels after laying out her tools, tying her hair back. “Do ya want a beer? You won’t be able to feel anything, if that’s why you’re askin’.” She turned his hand over and pointed out the spot where the tendons were suspended in place above the heel of his hand. “See this? These closures hold your artificial tendons. They’re connected at a point further down your arm to the real deal. If I was cuttin’ on those, you’d need local anesthesia. Fortunately, they weren’t damaged other than a little charring. What I’m gonna be workin’ on is these smaller wires threaded beneath that carry a current- see how they’re frayed? They’re not meant to take on that kinda load. Prosthetics like yours are sensitive, they’ve gotta be to operate off of natural human bioelectricity.” When she glanced up from her explanation, there was a quirk at the corner of his mouth. She tilted her head, “What?”

He brought his organic hand to her chin wordlessly and ducked, guiding her up to meet him in a kiss. She framed his face with her hands and responded eagerly to the tension in his grip. They’d both been so busy with work and gigs and favors for friends that they’d hardly had time that week for each other, settling for texts and pictures in the early hours and meeting for breakfast to brush knees beneath the table. River had been spending a lot of his downtime helping out Joss, which she admired, but she missed him when he wasn’t around. She hadn’t even been expecting him to come back tonight- just got lucky- though she wouldn’t call a brush with disaster ‘luck’, exactly.

V pulled back just enough to break the kiss, her nose still pressed to the side of his, and laughed softly. “You’re gonna get me all distracted.” 

“Sorry,” he murmured, but his smile told her that was a lie. 

“So,” she said, clearing her throat and settling back into position to work on his hand, “How’d this happen?” Her irises lit up as she activated her scanner and pulled on heat-resistant gloves. She then pinched the wire on the underside of his primary digit with a pair of pliers, holding it taut above the closure that kept it suspended, and snipped. It was stranded, which made for a stronger solder than smooth, so she dug through her toolbox to clip an even length from her own stash of spools. She made sure to leave enough slack that he’d have full range of motion, plus extra in the event of hyperextension.

“I caught a juiced up shock baton in full swing,” he said, earning himself a quick glance of narrowed eyes before she refocused. 

“And the guy who swung it?”

River sucked his teeth, “Didn’t make it, unfortunately.”

She smirked in place of a laugh to keep her hands steady, unbraiding her length of wire and twining it with the loose threads of what remained above the clasp. Her iron was heated through by the time she retrieved the soldering alloy and she brought the pieces together with experienced precision. Smoke curled from her tools, liquid metal beading and coating the twined ends. She’d tucked a layer of silicone beneath to catch any excess, but worked carefully enough that there was none. Repeating the process on the other three damaged wires was a quick task and she was soon replacing her iron with connectors, sliding them on and giving an application of heat to seal her handiwork. 

V made a few final adjustments and seemed satisfied, the light of her scanner fading. She blinked hard a few times before looking up. “Give ‘em a wiggle.”

River did so, curling and flexing his fingers. “Impressive,” he said. 

She approximated a humble shrug and braced herself on his knee to stand. Her neck was protesting from all the bending and she was beginning to get a headache from the strain. “Just gonna buff out that palm plate, give it a polish, and reattach. Should be all set after that.” 

He watched as she sat and fired up the drill, grabbing a pair of discarded aviators to double as eye protection. Free to move around, he took it upon himself to retrieve a couple of drinks. V shook her head at the offered beer, requesting another water and painkiller instead. Beneath the light of the kitchenette, he was able to study her neat repairs in clarity. He knew enough about the subject to have a critical eye, but couldn’t find a fault. The splices looked far superior to anything he’d ever been able to do. 

When he returned to the sitting area, she was applying the final touches of polish. The metal piece in her hand shone like new chrome. “Hasn’t looked that good in years,” he commented, placing a can in front of her with a few tablets.

“Let’s see how it looks installed,” she replied, turning off the drill and removing the attachment to place her tools back in the box. She took a quick pull of water to swallow the meds before settling in beside him to take his hand. The plate snicked home through the grooves in the metal. “Good as new.”

River made a fist. “Everything fits.” He then opened it and studied everything all put together. It was sleek and spotless, no evidence of having been blown apart just hours before. Glancing sidelong at her, he said, “Thanks, V.”

She smiled. “Don’t mention it.” 

“Nah, I think I will.” He settled back into the couch and propped an ankle on his opposite knee, patting a thigh in an invitation for her to get comfortable.

“Joss waitin’ on you?” she asked, hesitating. 

He shook his head, “Nope, Randy’s feelin’ well enough to be in charge while she’s at work.”

V was satisfied with that answer, stretching her legs out and laying her upper body in his lap. “So you’re all mine, huh?” 

He teased her hair from the elastic and ran his fingers through it, “All yours. Seein’ as tomorrow’s Friday, whaddya think about kicking off the weekend early?” She shut her eyes, enjoying his touch against her aching head, and thought it over.

“I’ve got a thing with Panam first light, gotta roll out around six so I can get there ‘fore sunrise.” She opened an eye long enough to ask, “Wanna come?”

River chuckled and twined a strand of her hair around one finger, “Hell yeah, I do. Do me a favor, though- let ‘em know I’m comin’. Don’t wanna be greeted with a warning shot this time.”

V winced, “Wasn’t aware they actually fired at you.” She reached for her phone and fired off a text to Panam.

> Gonna bring a guest tomorrow if that’s alright

The dots indicating a response being typed appeared and disappeared, then reappeared again. 

>> Who?   
> River, of course  
>> Aw yeah, bring him on over. The more the merrier   
>> By the way, shouldn’t you be sleeping? ;]

V laughed, tilting the screen so River could see, “She called me out.”

His ministrations paused, “Still not feelin’ well?”

She hit send on her final text, bidding her friend goodnight, and set the device back down. “I feel well enough,” she responded with a slow, suggestive smile. 

“That right?” he asked playfully, “Dunno if I believe you.”

V gave him a flat look and sat up, adjusting so that she was straddling his hips before settling back down. Her oversized sweater had fallen down one shoulder with the movement, exposing smooth skin and collarbones and the flash of chrome in the hollow of her throat. He exhaled slowly through his nose as he drank in the sight. Her hair had dried in loose waves and fanned over a portion of her face, which he tucked away before placing a kiss beneath her jaw. He could feel her pulse quicken beneath his lips and dragged them down, the affectionate gesture becoming a scrape of teeth and a groan as she redistributed her weight further up on his lap. 

“Think you believe me now,” she murmured, referring to the swell she felt against her inner thigh. 

River nodded with a hard swallow. Words were elusive with this woman pressed against him, so he opted for touch instead. He ran his hands up her sides and lifted her shirt off of her head, freezing when he noticed the fresh tattoo on her arm. His ability to speak was suddenly reinstated.

“Johnny and V, huh?” he teased before rumbling with laughter. 

She didn’t seem to find it as funny and covered her arm with her opposite hand, “Motherf-... I forgot all about the damn thing.”

River’s chuckles grew until he had to catch his breath. “That asshole is  _ bold _ ,” he managed before dissolving again. 

V growled in frustration, “Of course he’d figure out a way to kill the mood even when he’s not around.”

“Kill the mood?” River asked, sniffing back his composure, and stowed his amusement to replace with a grin. “Mood’s goin’ nowhere, babe.” He pried her hand away and draped her arm around his neck, V responding in kind so he could pick her up to carry to bed. She gave him a grateful kiss and untangled when he sat her down to undress. 

With the lights on, she could watch each roll of every muscle as he shed the articles of clothing and kicked off his boots. It was a view that she was positive she’d never tire of- this gorgeous man and his skin the color of the desert canyons, the way he moved with confidence and touched her with reverence, with hunger. He eased her leggings off her hips and pulled them off with undemanding measure, following the bite of cool air with the warmth of his organic hand all the way from thigh to ankle. She hissed encouragements, pulling him back into her embrace. 

He followed her with his body as she laid back and smoothed his hand between her legs, dipping a finger inside her to find that she was already primed and slick. The way he looked up to meet her eyes sent a lash of heat through her core and he curled a second digit to join the first. Her back arched at the stretch and he merely watched, pumping lazily, as she bit her lip and shut her eyes. The uneven cadence of her breathing echoed in the dips and valleys of her abdomen and exaggerated the rise and fall of her chest. She was smooth skin and artwork and flashes of chrome and he was beginning to ache for her.

Before he had to make the decision himself, she seized his wrist to stop him and sat up, pushing him back down where she’d just been laying. She eased her leg over his side and lined him up with her center, sinking down slow enough to hitch his next inhale. The way he clutched her waist was  _ doing _ things to her. 

“Shit, Valerie,” he groaned, chest heaving. She tried to raise herself back up, but he held fast, so she rolled her hips instead. He’d said her name without thinking, like a reflex in response to sensation. River finally loosened his hold and allowed her to set the pace, supplementing her downward thrusts with the strength of his arms that encouraged her to ride him harder. The pain behind her eyes was long forgotten, either gone or overwhelmed by the fullness of her other senses. His calloused fingers rasped across her skin and he pulled her down into a rough kiss. This new angle impeded her movements and allowed him to buck his hips into her with a hand splayed against the small of her back. 

She gasped his name into his mouth, the pressure beginning to build. He could feel her tense around him, the first flutters evident as he continued to grind against just the _ right  _ spot. V dropped her head against his jaw, unable to think or move or breathe- she was only aware of him, her body anticipating the next stroke. He gripped her hair and wrenched her head back to tongue her throat, the force carrying into the hand that crushed her against him. The next deep, grinding thrust broke the tension apart. Absently, she seized him by the neck and rode out the searing waves of her orgasm, mindless of how the chrome installed in her palm was biting into his skin.

It overwhelmed River’s senses and, combined with the way she clenched around him, was enough to send him over the edge with her. He came with a groan that vibrated through her fingers and she rasped a litany of curses in eager response. V released him to palm his cheek, giving him a ragged kiss as the rise of his hips became more shallow and finally stilled. The hands that had been holding her so tightly loosened and settled between her shoulder blades as they simply breathed each other in. 

Gradually, the kiss sweetened and V finally broke it with a smile. She had no clever quips, just a pounding heart as she looked down at him. After years of everything around her going to shit, finding River was almost too good to believe, yet there he was. Sweet, compassionate, loyal River. Didn’t hurt that every time they ended up in bed together, it was better than the last.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, tucking an arm behind his head. He looked spent, a sheen of perspiration on his brow and organic eye heavy.

“Just happy,” she summarized, rolling off of him and curling into his side. “You called me Valerie.”

He thumbed her shoulder with a hum, turning his head to bury his nose in her hair. “Mhmm. V might be a notorious merc, but I can see past all the swagger.” He stretched and huffed a satisfied sigh, ruffling her hair. “You’re still that nomad from nowhere to me, and that nomad has a name.”

V couldn’t think of a time she’d received a better compliment. 


	15. Chapter 15

**05:41 29 Jan 2077**

  
  


“Ah, fuck, that’s hot.”

River stole a look at his groggy passenger who’d just spat a mouthful of coffee back into her to-go cup. “Told ya,” he said. He’d left his in the cupholder to cool and suggested that she do the same after already burning himself, but V was too tough to be concerned by things like the temperature of beverages she was about to consume. He fought a smile as he brought his eyes back to the road. She was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met and it was a source of endless amusement. 

V glowered briefly in his direction and sagged into her seat. A riposte was simply outside of her capabilities that early in the morning. 

“You’re damned cute when you’re angry,” River teased.

“And you’re askin’ for trouble, Ward.”

He chuckled, “That a threat...? Ah fuck, I dunno your last name.” 

“Castillo,” V said, giving him a look of appraisal. They’d had a short conversation about her family weeks prior when she mentioned her father in passing, but he’d gotten the impression that she didn’t want to talk about it and didn’t push the subject. 

“Castillo- that Spanish?” 

“Dad’s dad was Dominican. And ‘fore you ask, I have no idea about my mother’s side. She left when I was real small and dad never talked about her.” V gazed out the window. The wound was old, long past the point of pain, but there had been a time in her life when she would have ended the conversation right there. 

“Left, huh?,” River asked. He thought V was a rare exception when it came to nomads. She was the first one he’d ever heard of to willingly break away from their clan. The rest were all outcasts and criminals.   
  
“Yeah, left the clan. Supposedly settled out east somewhere and took my older brother with her. Dunno how true that is since it’s a rumor dad never confirmed.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry, V.”

She shrugged, taking a careful sip of coffee and finding it acceptably cooled. “Nothin’ to be sorry about. Can’t miss somebody you don’t know. ‘Sides, I had plenty of family.” 

"Ever miss them?” His question was tentative. She’d been getting more and more entwined with the local Aldecaldo clan and he’d noticed the harness emblazoned with their iconic mustang draped over her computer chair that morning. A gift from Panam, no doubt. He’d been meaning to ask her about it. They’d been all too eager to assist in his search when she’d gone to ground. 

V thought for a long moment before answering, “Home’s wherever I lay my head, and family’s wherever I lay my heart. Both those pieces of me belong in Night City.”

He commented, “That’s poetic.”  
  
“Can’t take the credit. Saw it on a tattoo once,” she said, gesturing to his cup. “Joe’s cool enough now, by the way.” 

River thanked her and took a drink, merging off of the highway. “It feels selfish to say, but I’m glad you’re not goin’ anywhere.” 

“Nah, you’re stuck with me.” 

He glanced aside at her. She wouldn’t be grinning into her cup if she knew how serious he was. In the event that V’s nomadic nature resurfaced and she decided to hit the road with the Aldecaldos, he’d be left collecting shards of himself that he’d only just become aware could shatter. She must have picked up on the gravitas, because she reached across the center console and took the hand that was resting on his thigh, weaving her fingers between his metal ones. “Look at you,” she said softly, “all worried about somethin’ that won’t happen.”

“I wouldn’t try to stop you, V. Can’t say it’d be easy, but I’d understand.” 

Her grip tightened before she let go. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

The terrain became rough as they neared the camp and V finished her coffee between rocky patches, managing to keep her shirt clean. They’d both dressed for the weather- V with her leather jacket and River with a denim one that she’d found at a shop in Rancho Coranado and thought he’d like judging by the sherpa collar and lining. She studied him as they pulled into camp, the sharp line of his jaw and the set of his mouth, and leaned over to kiss him when he put the truck in park. He tasted like coffee and smelled like aftershave. 

“You’d be lost without me, Riv,” she said against his lips. “Somebody’s gotta keep you on course.”

“You got no idea,” he responded, playfully tugging the ends of her hair. 

There was a knock at the passenger window and they disentangled to find Panam standing there with Mitch on her heels. V hopped out to greet them and grabbed her friend by the forearm before pulling her into a hug. The Aldecaldo returned the gesture, amused, and released V so she could do the same to Mitch.

“Right on time,” Panam said, glancing up at River when he rounded the Thorton. “Welcome back, brother.”

V gauged his expression over her shoulder as he greeted Panam, measuring surprise and humility as she shook his hand. Even when slouching, he towered over her and V briefly wondered if she looked as comically small next to him. Even Mitch had to tilt his head back a fraction to look him in the eyes. 

“So the basilisk,” V said, hands on her hips, “Everything fine tuned, ready to go?”

“She purrs like a kitten,” Panam answered, practically vibrating with excitement as she jerked a thumb towards where it was parked nearby. “Carol ran a final sweep, all the ice is melted.” River appraised the panzer with a low whistle. He’d been briefed on the heist when V explained the political situation brewing between Saul and the veterans, but seeing the metal behemoth in person was an entirely different animal than being told the tale. River had avoided the most recent conflicts of the Unification War of 2070 by sheer luck of being a beat cop on the NCPD, but he had friends who enlisted- some never came back. He remembered with clarity the day NC sold its soul to Arasaka for protection from NUSA forces and the corp’s supercarrier took up residence in Del Coronado bay. Shit hadn’t been the same since. 

"Perfect.” V glanced between Mitch and River, noting the faraway look in the latter’s eye. “You boys have fun, huh?” River angled his head to study her, wondering how much she knew about the panzer she was about to jack into. Panam would be sharing the load on her software, which reassured him only moderately. V had been freshly twenty during the Unification, where he’d been thirty-two during its height. Nomads had been among the pool NUSA pulled troops from, enticing them with promises of chrome, heavy equipment, and a steady paycheck. It would surprise him if the Bakkers somehow managed to avoid recruitment.

It was Mitch who answered, “I’ll keep your input outta trouble. Gonna introduce him to your new baby.”

“I expect a full report on how she handles when I get back,” she told them, smirking at River. He mirrored her expression and turned to follow Mitch into camp. 

Panam was watching her, rife with mischief. “It’s even worse than I thought,” she said with a click of her tongue. 

“Awh, stow it. Let’s ride.” V turned on her heel and approached the basilisk. All the edges and planes gleamed in the light of dawn and she took in the tasteful application of stickers and paint. “The Rogue Raxxa.” 

Panam popped the hatch and gestured her inside. “Mhmm, Mitch’s idea. Said every hovertank needed a beautiful name.” 

V settled into the driver’s seat while her friend clambered into the gunner’s station and ran her hands over all of the interfaces. “Highspeed shit right here,” she murmured. “CC04 Defense system, life support, passive IFF…”

“Think you’re drooling a little,” Panam commented. “Go on, jack in. I’ll link up in a sec.”

She slotted her jack into the system and was jarred by a humming sensation filtering through her nerves. A lot like nicotine, it coursed right down to her fingertips. Somehow she could feel the tank as an extension of herself. The directional jets underneath itched to move as the crystaldome windscreen transitioned to transparency. 

“Alright, plugging in. May feel a little odd- the basilisk will link our nervous systems. It’s a two-seater so the secondary pilot can take on the sensory overload.”

V looked over at Panam and found herself staring into her own face. “It’s disorienting, yeah, but the real question is… howcome you didn’t tell me my hair looks like shit?” She combed her fingers through it, aware that she now had two sets of hands.

“Please, you silver fox. It looks fine,” Panam replied. The link established, all of the spatial chaos began to settle and it felt like they were two halves of one powerful, hulking whole. “Fire her up, let’s take her for a spin.”

“Gotta say, Pan. Didn’t bank on getting to know you this well.” 

Panam snorted, “That makes two of us.” 

V flicked the beast to life and fed the engines, lurching forward over a rocky crest. It handled with surprising grace for its size, held buoyant by the jets that compensated for rough terrain. Her confidence in her command of the vehicle bolstered, she gave it some more juice. The landscape was whipping by in shoals of dust and debris and she could feel Panam’s excitement through their link. A secondhand laugh bubbled from her throat and they grinned at one another.

“Hot damn, what a ride,” V said, taking a turn around a wind turbine. The basilisk could spin on a dime or strafe to either side in the fractured second it took to think of the command. 

“You’re a natural, V.” Panam was activating the combat interface and gestured for her to slow down. “Now, we’ll switch and you’ll handle the guns- see those cars out there? Hit ‘em with all you got.”

V stared down the windscreen at the rusted carapaces that littered the desert, only marginally aware of the transition between neural designations. The extension of her body enveloped the basilisk’s combat deck and she raised the guns eagerly. With such a sophisticated lock, her aim was true despite Panam’s command of the vehicle strafing left. Shells deployed to their targets with spectacular explosions of red and orange, washing their surroundings in light.

Panam whooped, “Fuck yeah! Can’t get any deader than that.” 

V caught movement in her periphery and swiveled the turrets, murmuring, “Getting a read…” She studied the landscape with narrowed eyes. Beyond a ridge, there was a swirl of dust out of place- the wind was blowing southeast, not northwest. 

“Over that dune,” Panam added, her senses drumming up in supplication. Their shared link zoomed in on the flashing movement indicators. The image sharpened, honing pixelation into images of souped-up nomad vehicles. 

“Raffens,” V breathed, “Gun it. They’re heading in the direction of camp.” 

“We’ve got our own to worry about, too,” Panam’s focus nudged V’s to a convoy breaking away from the main assault. 

Saul’s voice filtered over the comms, “Raffens incoming. Full force and lookin’ for a fight.” 

“We’ve got ‘em here too, Saul,” Panam answered.

“Take ‘em out and get back here to mop up this mess.” 

V had the first vehicle in the crosshairs and fired at the engine, triggering an explosion large enough to engulf the second. The remainder of their attackers broke off and careened through the desert after the vanguard, probably looking to regroup. The basilisk lurched into high gear in pursuit, machinery humming around her and  _ inside _ her, making her teeth vibrate. It had been a sizable force and she wasn’t sure if the nomads would be able to square up. With so many programs running on her soft, it was a struggle to isolate her comm with River. Static cropped up in the back of her head, each flare bringing with it a lance of pain. He connected a beat later.

“Where are you?” he asked between gunshots. “Things are lookin’ bad.”

“Almost there. Goddamnit, stay in cover and don’t be a hero. Please.”

The camp came into view, muzzle flashes strobing and drawing their attention to where the firefight was thickest. Panam glanced over, breathing ragged. She could feel the ache in her head, too. “Light ‘em up,” she said. 

V lined up the guns with the frontmost ranks of the Raffens and did a full sweep, mowing down bodies. Shots ricocheted harmlessly off the basilisk as Panam maneuvered it through the no-man’s-land, effectively cutting the assault off from camp. They were working in flawless tandem, integrated so that the movement of the tank followed its aim. V unloaded with the basilisk’s full arsenal, silhouettes of vehicles and Raffen Shiv disintegrating into dust in the wake of the payload. 

It was quick work- the Aldecaldos had a clear upperhand with their new panzer. The stragglers were dispatched by gunmen on foot and V took to flicking through targeting screens looking for life among the rubble. 

“They’re not gonna let this one go,” Panam said. “As long as we stay here, we won’t be safe.” 

V turned her head, “You mean that wasn’t all of them?”

“No. We decimated their ranks, but…”

“Right, they’re like cockroaches,” V finished, recalling their conversation at the Sunset motel. 

“And with their backs against the wall, they’ll get desperate. Creative.”

V grasped her jack, wetting her lips, “‘Bout to unplug, you go find Saul. I gotta check on River.”

Panam nodded and V broke the link, feeding the wire back into her port. They disembarked the basilisk and set out in different directions. V picked through the rubble carefully, breaking into a jog once she was past the worst of it. Her jog picked up into a run when she spotted River’s silhouette in a cluster of nomads. Coming down from the expanded awareness of the basilisk and Panam’s shared network was proving to be an adjustment, as the pain behind her eyes that blossomed during the attack grew. Her optics divided the scene in lines of static and she blinked hard to refocus. Cassidy was to his right judging by the cowboy hat and they seemed to be in mid-discussion. All the tension that had been building melted into relief and her boots must’ve been loud pounding the gravel, because they spotted her a moment later. 

“There she is,” Cassidy called. 

River spun in time to catch her, suspending her in a hug a foot off the ground. He smelled like carbon and she had never been so thankful for the scent of a freshly discharged weapon. The Overture was holstered neatly in his belt, jacket tucked behind it for easier access. 

“Nice maneuvering back there,” River said into her cheek as he deposited her onto her feet. She checked him over with her eyes and hands and relaxed when she judged him whole. His expression bordered on amusement and she could tell he was humoring her. “Satisfied?”

V let out a sigh of relief, grinding a fist into one of her orbital sockets to alleviate some pressure. “If we hadn’t had the basilisk…” 

“Then we woulda been toast,” Mitch finished, lighting up a cigarette. “No doubt about it, Panam’s planning saved all our asses today.”

V leaned against the truck behind her and River followed suit, draping an arm around her shoulders. If he’d been shaken by the attack he didn’t show it, but he wasn’t the type to be physically affectionate in full view of anyone else. She guessed that having her in the crook of his arm gave him a measure of comfort after the ordeal, so she rested her head against his chest while the Aldecaldos debriefed. V knew the clan would need to take up a stronger tactical foothold with a better vantage point of the wastes eventually, but nomads were already packing up and readying their vehicles. Even the Bakkers hadn’t been so efficient. 

While Mitch sorted out who was going to load up what, Saul and Panam edged through the bustle and the conversation ground to a halt.

“Listen up,” Saul said, projecting his voice enough that the flurry of activity paused. Panam’s expression was just barely neutral; V knew her well enough to catch the slant at the corner of her mouth. Saul cleared his throat. “We knew the Raffens were going to strike again, just didn’t know when or where. This was an all-out assault intended to wipe us off the map, and without Panam’s help, I’m sure they would have succeeded in doing just that.” 

Panam exchanged a look with V, bouncing softly on the balls of her feet, and declined her head to let Saul finish. 

“From this day forward, Panam will lead this family at my side, as my equal. May she make us proud to be Aldecaldos.”

The nomads broke into applause and whoops of enthusiasm, exchanging handshakes and pats on the back with their new leader. V thought it was a good move- a  _ great _ one, politically- Panam’s grit would balance out Saul’s caution, keep them true to their roots and well out of reach of Corp incentives and blood money. The Aldecaldos couldn’t have been entrusted to better hands. V glanced up at River, who squeezed her with a smile. 

“You don’t look surprised,” she noticed.

River replied, “But  _ you _ do. Huh. Maybe you’re too close to have seen it comin’.”

“Some of us don’t have the gift of perception, detective.” She paused, changing the subject. “So, your verdict on the javelina?”

His smile split into a grin, “Was made for you. Handles like a dream, lots of horses under that hood.” 

V smirked, “You sayin’ I handle like a dream?” 

River ducked his head in embarrassment, chuckling, “I’m thinkin’ you want to be overheard.”

“It’s fun gettin’ under your skin.”

They settled in to watch the spectacle. Beers were being cracked open even while they were uprooting their tents and someone was strumming a guitar somewhere. Panam managed to break away from her family long enough to address the two. 

“C’mon, lovebirds. You look like you could use some drinks.” 

“I’m in,” River said, and V echoed the sentiment with a grin. Panam turned with a jerk of her head and they followed her across the camp.

“Little early to be drinking, I know, but everyone’s nerves are rattled,” Panam said. 

V laughed, “Yours especially, looks like.”

The Aldecaldo cast a look over her shoulder, “It’s been an… interesting morning. I feel as if I barely evaded a rapidly approaching train.”

“It was a close call,” V agreed. 

“I don’t know if I could have done it without you, V.” 

River had an inkling where this conversation was headed, watching V closely when she responded, “Aw, come on. You’ve had it handled from the jump.”

“No, I’m serious. We all owe you. So you can count on the Aldecaldos, always.” They walked up the stairs of a converted trailer complete with a countertop and welded-down stools. Panam slid over the counter. “Nobody’s behind the bar. That I like.” 

V was the first to sit, tugging River down beside her as Panam offered a selection of drinks.

“Broseph for me,” he said. V held up two fingers and Panam popped the caps on the edge of the bar before sliding them over. 

The Aldecaldo raised her own drink, “To happy endings.”

“And all the shenanigans along the way,” V said, peeking over at River. 

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, “To getting tangled up with nomads.”

That earned a laugh from both women before they all took a drink. Panam was the first to lower her beer, leaning on the countertop with a strum of her fingers. Her sharp brown eyes darted between V and her guest. “So River, Mitch tells me you had his six, took out a Raffen before they could get a shot off at him.”

“Right place, right time,” he said with a shrug. He liked the vet; he was easygoing in the way that all nomads seemed to be flexible, unperturbable. During their spin in the javelina, Mitch had even managed to interrogate a few answers out of him regarding the nature of his relationship with V. The Aldecaldos evidently protected their own and River caught the drift that their full force was behind her in any situation. A decade ago, it might have ruffled his feathers to be put under a microscope, but he’d learned over the years that defensiveness was always a shortcut to conflict. Besides, he had nothing to hide. Like he told Mitch, he was hopelessly wrapped around her finger. 

Panam hummed, pretending to speak to herself, “Boy, it sure would be nice to have another panzer pilot and her crackshot boyfriend join us when we move on.” 

V laughed despite the pain shooting through her head. “This again? I hate to tell you no a second time.”

“Then don’t,” Panam chirped. 

River shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “I can let you two talk about this in private?”

“Nah,” V said, “Pan, why don’t you tell him what my answer was last time? When you gave me that harness?”

Panam took another drink and rolled her neck, “Eh, it was some bullshit about already being home. You promised to visit, blah blah-”

“Don’t want it to be because of me,” he told V seriously. Though the nomads were kind enough to include him in the invitation, there was just no getting around the fact that he was needed in Night City. Joss was strong- so were her kids- but he'd only just reforged the bonds between them and wasn't sure they'd hold up on their own if he removed his supports. V knew that much just by watching the way they interacted. 

“Aw, isn’t he funny?” Panam joked, “If it was a matter of who she loves more, big guy, I’d win. This isn’t about either of us.”

V rolled her eyes good-naturedly and instantly regretted the way it made her head swim. Ever since she’d jacked in to the basilisk, the throbbing had gotten progressively worse. She’d been hoping it would subside after disconnecting her link, but when it didn’t, she began to wonder if she was plummeting headlong into another relic malfunction. It had been some time since her last one in Yawen’s exam chair and she hated it when Johnny was right. The buildup hurt worse than she remembered; sweat streaked down her sides underneath her light henley. 

“V?” Panam asked. She and River had been exchanging friendly barbs while V clutched her temples and she got their attention when she set her beer down hard. 

River’s voice joined the Aldecaldo’s, but V couldn’t make out the words beyond the ringing in her ears. Despite the heat of the rising sun and the perspiration beading on her brow, her body went cold as her blood pressure bottomed out. Consciousness slipped from her grasp and the last thing she was aware of was the aluminum overhang streaking in front of flashing optics.

“V!” River caught her before she hit the ground and lowered her the rest of the way. Her exhale upon being laid down runneled blood from her nose and he brought up his scanner to check her vitals. They were all over the place, heart rate spiking in the one twenties as her blood pressure dipped into an alarming range. “She’s never passed out before,” he told Panam, tossing her his key. “Bring my truck around, quick. Gotta get her to a doctor.”

“A doctor? What the fuck is happening?!” Panam hovered for a moment more, watching him try to rouse V, before tearing off in the direction of his vehicle. 

River dialed Yawen and tapped V’s cheeks as he waited for the line to connect and stroked the damp hair back from her forehead. “C’mon, Valerie,” he murmured. She remained unresponsive and still.

“Hello, River.” Yawen’s voice filtered through the holo.

“Thank fuck you answered. It’s V, she’s in another malfunction, I think- this one knocked her out.”

Yawen’s image on the other end of the line distorted as she moved to pull on a coat, “Bring her by my lab, I’ll be there shortly.”

“Be there in ten.”

The line dropped as Panam revved the truck through the encampment. She hopped from the driver’s seat and left it running with the door ajar. “Brought Mitch, what can we do to help?” The veteran was close on her heels, having ridden in the passenger’s side. 

River was already collecting the unconscious V in his arms. “Buckle her up while I get in.” 

He handed her carefully off to Mitch and the nomads packed her up in the passenger’s side as he got situated. They’d leaned the seat back as far as it would go and stuffed her jacket beneath her head to prevent it from rolling too far to either side. Panam ducked through the window after closing the door, her eyes wide. “Keep us updated, alright? We’re going to be moving camp but I’ll slip away if you need me to.”

“Thanks,” River told her, shifting into drive. “I will.”

Panam stepped back and tapped the truck, and it took off in a cloud of dust. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's fluff, it's angst, it's shades of things to come!  
> you guys, I cannot deal with the love I'm getting for this fic. smooches and hugs to all of you.

**16:42 29 Jan 2077**

  
  
V had been unconscious for several hours by the time Yawen retreated to the back of the lab to ready another application of nanites. The afternoon had been a blur of scans and scientific jargon River didn’t understand, but the prognosis was good, at least. He sat on the rolling stool by the exam table with a fresh cup of coffee and studied V’s still form. Her body was arranged straight legged with her arms by her hips and head lolled to one side for easy access to her ports. Whatever depth of sleep she’d dropped into, it was restless- her expression rippled with the occasional creased brow and flutter of eyelashes. 

Seeing her like this wasn’t doing him any favors, but he didn’t want to leave V’s side and risk her waking up in an unfamiliar, sterile room alone. As much as she tried to hide it, he knew that she didn’t like doctors- or heights, or really anything that made her feel vulnerable. That was V: invincible until she wasn’t. 

River exhaled through his nose, glancing at her well-loved leather jacket folded at her side. It was covered in patches, studs, and pins and served as a peek inside that chaotic head of hers. There was a Valentinos patch that she’d said reminded her of Jackie. She’d given River access to their inside joke about the gang’s graffiti and how she’d claimed those first few weeks in Night City that the large, illuminated Vs actually stood for  _ her _ name. Jackie had naturally played along and every surface of her weapons locker was plastered with photos of the two chooms posing in front of various tags. 

River found himself smiling at the thought, thumbing another patch of two clasped, skeletal hands above the stitched words ‘suffer with me’. This one was worn and tattered, appearing to have been sewn into the leather after being torn from another jacket. He looked up at her, studying her fine features. Sometimes he couldn’t reconcile the stone-faced, flippant merc that slid into the booth across from him at the Chubby Buffalo with this woman that he’d become so enamored with. They’d started off on the wrong foot the second he’d seen her caller ID, which was just her image drowned in the shadow of a cowboy hat pulled low over her eyes. Loose cannon subcons were an enny a dozen and completed contracts were all her number brought up in a quick reverse-search. 

V was an expert at conversational evasion, which had irritated him when she responded to his inquiries about her stake in the case with something about a ‘private investigation’. He’d told her to lose his number, but her claws were already out. By the time she got to the barbeque joint, she was riled and gunning for a fight that he wouldn’t give her. Looking back on it now, he was thankful that she’d been persistent enough to catch and hold his interest by dropping the Peralezes names, though he wouldn’t have let it rest there. Had she walked off to pursue other leads, he would have gone sniffing after her to find out what she knew.

In the days following that first gig, they’d exchanged a few harmless text messages. V was admittedly the smoother of the two and managed to lighten up the shitshow of his career in freefall with a grinning selfie in front of a police cruiser engulfed in flame, captioned: “sitch at the PD?” She’d give him an endless amount of shit if she knew he’d saved that image the second it came through.

River felt his smile waver as his attention shifted from the memory to her body lying motionless on that table. She was objectively beautiful, but he already missed her mischief-laden expressions. He placed his organic hand on the slope of her shoulder, brushing a wisp of silver hair away as he took a long drink of his tepid coffee. 

“Shoulda known that panzer would knock you offline,” he told her when he lowered his cup. He set it down and propped his other elbow beside her arm. “That kinda load is substantial even for someone without a fried biochip jammed in their port.” She didn’t answer, of course, but it felt good to talk to her like she was present, so he continued. “We gotta get that fuckin’ thing outta your head, V. I’ll take you to see those mountains, lakes, stars- whatever you want, wherever… just need to figure this out first.”

He heard Yawen’s footsteps, but didn’t move from where he was, merely looking up when she appeared in the doorway adjusting her goggles. 

“She’s going to be fine, you know,” Yawen said as she walked around the other side of the table, “Her vitals are looking better already.” 

“I know,” he answered. 

Yawen pulled on a pair of gloves and readied the application of nanites- a larger dose, like they’d discussed. River dropped his gaze to V’s face. She didn’t seem to feel the needle, but her brow furrowed as Yawen depressed the plunger. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen you like this,” the doctor mused as she discarded the instrument into the sharps container on the wall and methodically removed her gloves. “I take it you’re actually more than friends?”

River huffed a laugh, but there was no humor behind it. “Keen observation.” He realized that he was being rude and scrubbed a hand across his face before meeting her illuminated lenses. “Sorry, Yawen, don’t mean to be short. Got a lot on my mind.” 

“I thought there might be some variable missing from this equation,” she said with a smile. “It’s good that you found someone willing to put up with you.”

“Funny,” he commented, but returned the smile nonetheless. 

She folded her arms, “I always felt that you were too confined by your police work. This new direction seems more authentic to the River I knew.” With a nod to V, she added, “I’m guessing she had a part to play in this.”

He did grant her a genuine chuckle at that hypothesis, because she nailed it. “Sometimes you need to have your compass jarred, remind you what’s true north. Even if that outside force is an… anarchist merc with an intense distrust of cops.” 

“She’s right to distrust the PD,” Yawen mused. “But anyone can see what they’ve become.”

A breathy, cracked interruption: “What they’ve  _ always _ been.” 

River and Yawen both looked down at V, who was blinking hard against the fluorescents. She took in her surroundings with a scowl and rubbed the back of her neck. Her mouth was so dry that she had to unstick her tongue from the roof. “Drink, anyone? I had a beer in my hand, but I’m guessin’ that’s out of the question now.”

“I’ll get some water,” Yawen said, ducking out of the room. 

V turned her head to River with a wince, “What the hell happened? We were talkin’ with Pan and it was lights out. Christ, my neck fuckin’  _ hurts _ -” She was halfway through the complaint when he put his arms around her and the words died in her throat. He felt boneless with relief. “Must’ve looked bad, huh,” she croaked, returning his embrace with what strength she could muster. Everything was still a little fuzzy as her diagnostics completed in the foreground, but she was aware of the sharp scent of antiseptic and faint humming of machinery. 

When he finally released her, he explained, “You passed out back at camp, Yawen thinks you pushed it a little too far in the basilisk. Turned out to be a stroke of luck, ‘cause that first dose of nanites was eaten up. If we’d waited any longer for the second, the chip would already be back to eroding your ‘net.”

“Huh,” V puffed out her cheeks with an exhale as she took in the information. “The second dose- that why my neck hurts? Do the scans look alright?”

River cracked a smile, “One question at a time. She just gave you the second shot, think that might’ve been what woke you up. As for the scans… not much change. She did say that between better or worse, they’re better, but only by a little.” She moved to sit up, but he stopped her before she could kick her legs over the side of the table.

“I feel fine,” she protested. 

His expression sobered and he planted his hands on her knees. “Listen. We gotta get that chip out, V. You mentioned you’re workin’ on another way into Mikoshi, somethin’ about Rogue.”

She fixed him with those colorless eyes before dropping them to his hands. “Yeah, that intel Johnny got should double as a backdoor into Arasaka when the lead shakes out. I burned my bridge to the direct route when I wouldn’t play ball with Hanako, ‘member?” 

“I remember,” he said. “Whatever you’ve got brewin’, it’s time we kick it into gear.” V chewed her lip, dodging eye contact, and he tapped her knee with a “What?”

V growled out a sigh, “Waitin’ on Rogue to get back to me, but I gotta talk to Johnny.”

River cocked his head, “You haven’t-?”

She finally looked at him, voice flat, “Not much since he deposited me at that roach motel half dead, no.”

“Can’t say I blame you.”

V quirked the corner of her mouth. Of course River would get it. 

Yawen strode in a moment later with a can of water and a tiny paper pill cup. “Okay,” she said, handing them over. “I’m assuming he filled you in. Painkillers should help with the soreness at the injection site. Since we already know how your body will respond to the nanites, you’re free to go whenever you feel up to it.”

V groaned her thanks and popped the meds, chasing them with the entire can. In her haste, she nearly inhaled some and sputtered a cough into her forearm. “No orders to take it easy this time?”

“Moderate activity only,” Yawen responded sternly.

River asked, “That means what exactly, no runnin’ and gunnin’?” 

“Precisely.”

“How about target practice?” It was V’s turn to quiz the doctor as she brushed River’s hands off and eased to her feet. 

“If it’s stationary, I don’t see why not.” 

V pulled on her jacket and squeezed Yawen’s shoulder with a grin, “Aces. Thanks a million, doc.” She edged past and strolled out as if she hadn’t just been knocked cold minutes before and River hurried after her after thanking Yawen himself.

She was already outside by the time he got to the office portion of the building and he noticed her hands on her hips as she shook her head at his truck. Stepping through the doorway, he called after her, “We’ll pick up the javelina tomorrow- range is out in the badlands anyway.”

“You mean you still wanna go?” she asked, perplexed. Her eyes dimmed as she finished firing off a text, probably inquiring after Panam’s whereabouts. “Thought I’d at least have to talk you into it.”

He slid into the driver’s side and fired up the truck, answering her when she hopped in. “If we’re gonna go bustin’ down doors into Arasaka HQ, we may as well live a little first.”

“ _ We _ ?” V snapped her head in his direction, all of her mirth drained. She felt sick. 

He countered with a set jaw, “Yeah, we.”

“Like  _ fuck _ you are, River.”

“Try’n stop me.” When she went silent beside him, he pitched reason at her, “Thought we agreed on no more of this lone wolf shit. I’ve seen the inside of that building, there’s zero chance you’re goin’ in without me, Rogue or no. After what the basilisk did to you, we’ve got no idea what state you’ll be in after jackin’ into that access point and I’m not gonna let you get that far only to be surrounded by strangers at the most crucial moment.”

She balled her hands into fists, grinding her teeth as she glared out the window. His reasoning was tactically sound and she loathed it. Despite Rogue’s seemingly unlimited access to the best intel, gear, and bodies, this gig necessitated a scaled down stealth op to prevent drawing too much attention until the blow was struck. Alt could take Arasaka down from within, but the AI required a human element to upload herself- itself?- and time to replicate in their systems. If Smasher haunted that building like she guessed, it would be a hell of a task from start to finish. River had proven capable in a firefight several times over and had the added advantage of not being in it for the paycheck like whatever mercs Rogue would recruit. 

For now, V knew she needed to back off from the argument. The more her temper flared, the dizzier she got, and she was trying not to pant as a wave of nausea hit her. There was nothing short of incapacitating River that could keep him from breaching Arasaka with her.

“Stubborn ass badge,” she grunted, rolling down the window. The rush of cold air helped mitigate the lurching of her stomach, if only just, but it stung her damp eyes. She was glad he couldn’t see her face, because she knew she looked exactly the way she felt- scared shitless.

River reached out to smooth a comforting hand up her back, but she shrugged him off. He let out a single, offended chuckle and checked his blind spot before merging into the lane that would take them to V’s apartment. “Never seen somebody so pissed off about getting help.”

The silent treatment continued the rest of the way back. It was only when they pulled into a spot in the parking deck and River put the truck in park that V straightened to raise the window. Finally turning her head to look at him, he was struck by the redness of her nose and eyes. It would be easy to mistake for being windbitten, but her sigh was shaky. 

“I’m not gonna argue with you,” she said with a sniff. “This is a whacked idea, puttin’ your ass on the line for some merc you’ve only known for the better part of a month.” Before he could open his mouth to respond, she got out and shut the door. 

He hurried to catch up, long strides easily overtaking hers, but didn’t try to touch her as they got on the elevator together. She slammed her fist into the interface.

“You put _ your _ ass on the line for my family, ‘member?” he pointed out as the gates closed, stuffing his hands in his pockets to prevent him from reaching for her, “And you’d known me just a few days. If not for you, those turrets would’ve taken me out and Randy’d be dead.”

“This isn’t comparable,” she said, leaning against the wall of screens with a forearm. The same news reports were scrolling that had been that morning, illuminating her profile as the anchor droned on about Saburo Arasaka’s disappearance. Hanako had returned to Night City from her brief stay in Tokyo as teams scrambled to locate him. Seemed his days as a kingpin weren’t so far behind him, after all.

River regarded her seriously. “You’re right, it’s not the same- because we actually know each other now, and I’d be a shitty partner if I didn’t come with you. What is  _ up _ with you, V?”

The elevator stopped and she got off with him on her heels, the two cutting through the mill of residents and up the stairs. As soon as the apartment door shut behind them, he prompted her again, “V?”

V rounded on him, arms folded and eyes glassy. “I’m scared, alright? I’m fuckin’ scared, and that pisses me off, and bein’ pissed off is makin’ me lightheaded.” She groaned, bringing both hands up to push back her hair. “Last time I tangled with Arasaka, they killed my best friend and I’m not gonna let them take you from me too- I’m not...- I gotta siddown.” 

She tore off her jacket and left it where it landed, collapsing face-first into the couch. River unfroze a beat later to follow after her. He’d only seen her this raw and honest once before when she’d returned from Embers, but this time she was genuinely afraid. For  _ him _ , and he knew how much vulnerability taxed her. He sank into the corner of the couch and simply waited, observing the rise and fall of her shoulders from a few feet away.

“I’m sorry,” she said at length, her voice muffled.

“I get it. In your shoes, I’d feel the same way. But you would never let me go it alone.”

V rolled her face out of the crook of her arm, “Damn right I wouldn’t.” She kicked off her boots and crawled over to lean against his shoulder and he took that as permission to wrap an arm around her back, hand resting on her hip. 

“So it’s decided, then,” he said, dropping his lips against her hair.

She rubbed her eyes. “With conditions. Gonna find you some suitable gear, see if I can get my hands on-”

His arm around her back tightened briefly and he murmured, “Stop. We can worry about this later. I’m gonna grab us a bite from Tom’s- any special requests?” 

“Pancakes,” she replied. They hadn’t eaten since before sunrise and she hadn’t had the energy to contemplate sourcing dinner, so she was thankful he’d made a decision for her. 

River chuckled, “That was fast. Pancakes it is, then.” 

She moved over to let him up and the cat took his place, having been waiting for the opportunity to greet V since she sat down. As the door shut behind River, she pulled Nibbles into her lap and switched on the TV just for the comfort of background noise. She could push Arasaka and Rogue and Smasher into the periphery of her mind for just this weekend, this last stretch of peace, and simply enjoy it before focusing on what was coming down the line.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines day :) My gift to you is copious fluff, banter, and smut at the end of the chapter. 
> 
> Much love!

**07:42 30 Jan 2077**

  
  


“Well, well. If it ain’t V.”

V was leaning on the counter at the Brooklyn Barista waiting for her order when the vaguely familiar voice called out to her. She peered back and the disinterested look on her face became an instant sneer.  _ Fantastic. _ Standing over her right shoulder was Detective Han. She pushed herself upright and turned with apprehensive leisure before sagging her weight back on one elbow. 

“Detective,” she greeted him coolly, kicking one foot over the other ankle. It was far too early for a game of verbal chess with NC’s finest, but she’d give it the old college try for River’s sake. She looked disheveled from sleep and... sleep-related activities, her hair pulled back in a sloppy knot and lips flushed. In her haste to grab breakfast, she’d pulled on the first jacket she could find over her thin tank and shorts- and that jacket happened to belong to River. She was just thankful that it was the denim one rather than the old fur-collared standby that Han would recognize. Even so, the overlarge fit indicated that it did not belong to her and she gathered the extra fabric around her midsection when she crossed her arms. 

Han removed his sunglasses and tucked them in the front of his shirt to give her a trained once-over. “Still kicking around Watson, huh? Would’ve thought you’d move on to greener pastures, what with your rep.”

“Away from my favorite coffee place?” She asked,  _ tsk _ ing for emphasis. “Not likely. What’re you doin’ in my neck of the woods?”

“Refueling, of course,” he answered, raising the hand that held his coffee. “Say, you haven’t heard from our mutual acquaintance lately, have you?” 

V kept her face carefully neutral, unwilling to tip her hand. “You mean Ward? Nah, my guess is he’s busy with the fam.”

“Riiight,” Han drawled. V’s gut told her that he hadn’t bought it. “Speaking of the fam, how’d he manage to drag you into that dashing rescue?” He took a slow sip while maintaining eye contact and she returned the treatment, staring him down. She knew that her colorless irises could be unsettling and intended to use it to her advantage. 

“Gonna arrest me for helpin’ out a friend when your lot was too busy circlejerkin’, Han?” 

He mimicked a laugh, but the humor wasn’t there. “A friend, huh?”

_ Fuckin’ badges and their fuckin’ games _ . “Got lots of friends.” She grinned- more accurately, bared her teeth- and stole a glance at the barista to try and gauge just how long she’d have to keep stalling. She regretted ordering a fancy concoction with the selling point of being brewed from freshly ground, actual beans, but it had looked appealing on the display menu and she thought she had time to kill. 

“I can see why he likes you,” Han said. “You’re an easy read, and a good lookin’ kid, too. Young, supple. Solitary, older cop like him must’ve been cake to sink your hooks into.” 

“Ugh,” V wrinkled her nose at his implication, “Give it a rest. If you’re thinkin’ I nudged him into quittin’ the force, you’re wrong. You badges convinced him all by yourselves.” She didn’t like the direction the conversation had taken, the mischaracterization of their relationship, but wasn’t about to give him any ammunition by setting the record straight. She was going to let him think what he wanted to think and not fill in a single gap he was probing. 

“Hm. You know he quit, so you’ve talked to him since your little op at Edgewood.” 

_ Shit. _ “Told ya, we’re friends,” she responded, smooth and collected. It was always easier to lie with the truth. “If you’re so keen on sniffin’ after him, why don’t you just give him a holo? Sure he’d be thrilled to hear from his old crooked, double-dealin’ partner.” 

“One toffee latte and one coffee with synthcream, no sugar for V,” the barista called. V cringed inwardly as she noticed a change in Han’s expression- he knew exactly how River took his coffee, too. She collected the drinks from the counter before she could give anything else away. The barista handed her the bag of pastries to complete her order and when she turned to leave, the detective was shaking his head knowingly.

“Why don’t you give him a message for me since you’re already headed his way?” 

She brushed past the detective and walked out without another word. Whatever Han was playing at, she wanted no part of it and brought up her scanner to make sure she wasn’t being followed back to the building. He seemed to have other things on his plate, because he hung back at the coffee shop and showed no sign of pursuit. 

So much for a relaxing start to the weekend. 

V mulled over the confrontation all the way back to her apartment and stepped inside expecting to find River up and waiting for her, but he had fallen back asleep right where she’d left him with an arm draped over his eyes. It was hard not to get distracted by the soup of warm feelings the sight drudged up. The blinds were open just wide enough to streak sunlight across his skin where the sheets rumpled at his waist. His chest rose and fell steadily, peacefully, and she hated the thought of waking him up with the unsolved equation of what his ex-partner was after. 

So she didn’t. Instead, she set breakfast gently down on the living room table and nudged off her boots to pad over to the bed, dropping his jacket to the couch along the way. He roused a little as she settled beside him and pulled her closer, mumbling incoherently into her hair. 

It wasn’t surprising that he’d needed a few extra winks after the late night they’d had. Their dinner of pancakes was followed by a few rounds of cards while they half-watched a series of action flicks and then they’d gotten to talking about small, but significant things like their shared experience of shitty childhoods. He told her about getting bounced around between foster homes and schools and what a struggle it was to keep in touch with Joss every time they were separated. She gleaned that he carried that burden of guilt well into adulthood. 

V returned the favor with stories about being raised by pretty much anyone but her father. She’d been a community kid, having meals with other families and returning to her dad’s converted camper to pick up discarded beer bottles before bed. That had been the pattern until she was old enough to prove useful, either providing off-site intel through scanners or fixing what came back broken. Her dad had never been violent, she explained, but he’d maintained a constant state of inebriation to drown his demons. Still, she was lucky that she’d had a father that loved her- even if it was a melancholy, distant love. 

Their conversation had drawn out well into the early hours, card game forgotten and still spread out on the table when she’d dropped her head drowsily against his shoulder. The last thing she remembered was being deposited in bed and hearing him turn the lights off.

These moments of peace were becoming more frequent and deeply treasured as V grew to realize how lost she’d be without them. River provided something that was unattainable on her own. He tempered her whirlwinds and was steady, reliable. Safe. She trusted him, which was no small feat to earn. 

“Hey.”

V opened her eyes, having been unaware that she’d shut them in the first place, and craned her neck to look up at River who was still blinking off sleep. “Hey,” she responded, adjusting so that she could tuck her cheek against his bicep. “I brought breakfast, but you looked so damned comfortable. Had to get in on it.”

“Glad you did, nice way to wake up,” he said, the calloused pad of his thumb rasping up her side beneath her shirt. His touch lingered at her ribs on the thin, new scar from her injury weeks before.

“Better than the first time?” she asked, and he chuckled, fighting a yawn.

“Close second.” 

She hummed contentedly and moved to get up, but not before framing his face with her hands and pressing a soft kiss against his mouth. The low noise it prompted from his throat was eager enough to trip up her pulse, but she broke away before the drinks could get too tepid. He reached out to pull her back and she evaded his grasp with a spin, retrieving the coffees and pastries. 

“You’ll never guess who I ran into at the Barista,” she said. When she turned back around, the indicator light in his good eye was active and he gave her a look of shared subterfuge.

“Bet I can,” he grumbled. “Han.”

She settled on the edge of the bed and passed him his drink and a danish while waiting for him to spill whatever info he’d obtained from his messages. He took a long pull of coffee and nudged her, taking a bite large enough that she knew he wouldn’t elaborate. This prompted an exasperated series of questions from V.

“How was I supposed to know he’d be there, that he’d know your coffee order? That he’d be such a fuckin’ badge about it?”

He shrugged. “Not your fault, he was well on his way to puttin’ the pieces together. My truck’s been in your parking deck more than it’s been at my own place lately.” 

“What does he even want?”  
  
“Let me know I’m still under his thumb? Keep me quiet,” River guessed, then grunted. “Don’t like the fact that he’s got  _ you _ in the crosshairs now.” 

“But you already took him to internal affairs and they buried it, so what’s his play?” 

“I’m a loose end and you’re a merc with influence, rubbin’ elbows with the Peralezes. Jefferson’s up in the polls. You do the math.” 

“Fuck.” V hadn’t considered that. Johnny was right to warn her to keep her mouth shut. She took a bite and chewed it thoughtfully, swallowing to ask, “Want me to zero him?” 

River’s laugh was affectionate. “Ain’t gonna solve a thing if you do.”

“It’s worked well for me so far,” she argued, sucking the icing off her finger.

He washed down another bite with coffee. His expression had cooled by several degrees; evidently, he didn’t appreciate the levity she was applying to this delicate situation. “Seriously, V. Watch your back, don’t flatline anybody you don’t have to. He’s gonna be lookin’ for reasons to cuff you.”

“Please,” she scoffed, “I’m a professional. And like you said, I’ve got Peralezes in my pocket.” 

“Might give him all the more reason. Think about the media circus it would drum up if Jefferson bailed you out. People know your name, know what you do.”

“You’re helpin’ my argument that he’s beggin’ for a lead injection.”

River sniffed, placing his coffee on the shelf alcove above the bed, and grabbed her behind the knees to pull her closer. “You are gonna get yourself in a world of shit droppin’ bodies all cavalier like that.” V’s focus wasn’t on the lecture she was getting, though; she was intrigued by the casual ease of how he’d tugged her towards him, staring at the veins roped around his forearms. 

“Mmh,” she managed, an eyebrow piqued when she met his gaze. “I’m just a ruffian livin’ outside the law. Can’t be reformed... officer.” 

“Valerie,” he warned. Despite his play at being stern, she noted that the pupil in his organic eye was wide. 

“Don’t call me that when you’re mad at me.” 

“Don’t call me Officer,” he countered. Before she could consider, his grip tightened to pull her the rest of the way into his lap and he surged up to pin her against the mattress. It was a good thing she’d put her coffee on the floor beforehand, or they’d both be wearing it.

V dissolved into giggles as he kissed her neck- his stubble tickled.

“Alright, okay,” she gasped, trying to wrench her upper body away. “I won’t kill Han.”

“Was that so hard?” he asked, the question muffled against her throat. River was trying his best to contain his appetite for a round two, but her skin was silky against his mouth and the scent of her perfume lingered at the pulse point beneath her ear. It was a wildly enticing smell, but he couldn’t decide if it was the warm, spicy notes or the fact that he’d begun to associate them with being this close to her. She wore the fragrance just sparingly enough that he had to really lean in to pick up on it.

“Not as hard as-” V began, but he cut her off with a hungry kiss, grinding his hips into hers to indicate that he knew exactly where she was going with that. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed after she left and his bare skin against her thighs was warm with tense muscle underneath. She sucked in a breath and dropped her head back as he dragged his mouth down the column of her throat to pepper kisses across her collarbone, her chest, before dipping his tongue between her breasts. “Thinkin’ I oughtta be feisty more often,” she whispered, and he answered with something akin to a growl. 

He’d made quick work of the clasps on her bra and was about to dispose of it with her top when V’s holo began to buzz. 

“Fuck,” she muttered, “Hold on.” 

The line connected on the third ring and she made a mental note to tweak the settings when Panam’s image superimposed on her optics. 

“Oh!” Panam said, looking away politely. “Er, sorry if I’m interrupting something, V. I’ve got your ride in the parking deck.” Mitch’s laughter filtered through the line.

“Great, thanks, be out in a sec.” V’s response was a flustered tangle of words and she disconnected the call immediately, glancing down at River who was composing himself with his forehead against her midsection. “I think Pan might’ve gotten an eyeful of nip.”

He laughed out a groan, easing off of her with reluctance. He thought he’d had more time before the Aldecaldos rolled in. “Damn… we can pick up where we left off later?” he asked, and V smiled at his earnestness.

“Might kill me if we don’t.” 

They disentangled to get dressed and River pulled on his clothes while mumbling something about not having time to take a cold shower. V gave him a sympathetic look over one shoulder, buttoning her jeans. Their plans would take them out to the badlands to where one of her contacts at the Sunset Motel had set up a shooting range for a small fee, providing she purchased the accompanying ammunition and targets. The weather had held out too, she noticed, gazing out the window at the balmy late-January morning. She forewent her usual fleets for biker kicks with a pointed metal toe and knotted a bandana on to tuck in the front of her shirt. Windy days in the dunes meant sand- a lot of it- and she was no stranger to shaking buckets out of her underclothes. 

“All you’re missin’ is a cowboy hat,” River noted, and V produced one from where she left it on the computer desk to plop it on her head. He shook his head at the image, “Nomads.”

“Damn straight,” came her response as she grabbed her colossal range bag and strolled out the door. He followed, shrugging on his jacket in the hallway. 

V rarely got visibly excited, but the promise of tearing through the badlands in the Javelina had her amped up and grinning in the elevator as she detailed all of the aftermarket work that had gone into her new ride. Some of it translated to things River understood, like a cold air intake, but other things were far too technical for him to follow. The Aldecaldos were a roving pack of mechanics and engineers and V was no exception. Still, he listened and asked for details even while worrying about what he was getting himself into. She had a heavy foot on her bike and that probably translated to something worse in an actual car. 

Panam and Mitch were chatting against the Javelina’s hood and looked up from their conversation at V’s approach. The nomads had taken two vehicles to drop V’s off and Panam’s Thorton was parked beside it. 

“Glad you found some clothes to put on,” Panam laughed, rising to hug her friend. 

V hooked a hand on the back of her neck when they pulled away and clapped Mitch on the shoulder in greeting. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Aw, it’s fine,” Panam said, smirking, “I just feel like I should’ve paid admission.” 

“Demo’s free of charge,” V deadpanned. 

Mitch chuckled around his cigarette and River cleared his throat as a prelude to changing the subject. “Thanks for bringing the ride by. Think V’s gettin’ sick of my driving.” 

“Hey, anytime. Least we could do after yesterday,” Mitch responded, looking at V. “Glad to see your color’s back. Had us worried.”

She shrugged off the concern, but Panam had latched on to the turn in conversation and sank in her teeth, asking, “What the hell happened? I knew something was off in the Basilisk, but figured you just had a headache- that you overloaded or something. It’s not uncommon.” 

V wet her lips, darting her eyes to River, who gestured for her to explain. With a sigh, she relented. “‘Member that biochip I told you was functioning independently of my soft, Pan? Back when we were about to take down the AV?” Panam nodded, recalling the blip in her combat suite’s diagnostics, and she continued, “It’s a relic- personality construct- and I’m sharin’ my headspace with an engram of Johnny Silverhand. Wouldn’t be so bad if the chip wasn’t busted and tryin’ to take me out.” 

“Johnny Silverhand?” Mitch asked, flicking ash. “Surely you don’t mean-”

“She does,” River interrupted. She was folding in on herself under the interrogation with eyes downcast and focused on her boots. “We’re workin’ on a plan to get him out.”

Panam stepped forward to flick the brim of her hat. “Not like you don’t have a whole damn cavalry and all its resources at your disposal, V. Damnit, let us help you.” 

“There ain’t a thing you can do right now. I’ll let you know if one crops up,” V said. She was lying and River knew it- so did the Aldecaldos- but no one had the heart to interrogate her while she looked like she wanted to sink into the asphalt. She rallied a tenuous smile and went to tap her pockets, realizing she left her cigarettes in her jacket back at the apartment. “Mitch, mind if I bum a cig?” 

“Sure, long as you don’t mind Morleys” he answered, producing one from the pack. “Need a light?”

She propped it between her lips, murmuring, “Yep, forgot that too.” 

Panam was searching River’s face during the exchange and he looked intentionally away. It wasn’t his place to tell V how to solve this problem or with whom, even though he felt the Aldecaldos were likely a better bet by sheer numbers and their ability to improvise. They had a specialist on deck for just about any sort of complication. Rogue was a fixer, long removed from the footwork of edgerunners, and he knew just enough about her to prefer the straightforward methods of the nomads. At least with their help, he’d know what V was getting herself into. 

“Thanks,” V told Mitch, moving on to check out the Javelina. She ran a hand over the gold and turquoise paintjob with something like reverence as she puffed away. “So what kinda trouble are you two stirrin’ up in NC on this fine morning?” 

“Just going to grab a bite before heading back to camp. Mitch has never tried real pierogis, can you believe that?” Panam asked. 

“That’s a cryin’ shame.”  
  
Mitch shrugged, “I’m expecting them to change my life, the way you both talk about ‘em.”

“Tell me you’re taking him to the place by the docks and not the one in City Center,” River said.

“Docks all the way,” Panam confirmed, glancing back at V. “Call me later, alright? We need to hash out this biochip thing.”

V gave her a distracted nod, flicking what was left of her smoke away before depositing her range bag in the trunk. “Might be tomorrow, tryin’ to spend today taking my mind off the whole mess.” 

“Good,” her friend said. “You deserve a breather. I’ll try not to burn anything down while you’re indisposed.” 

“Thanks, Pan… really. You too, Mitch.” V had stopped by the driver’s side and leaned against the door, looking as close to serious as the nomads had ever seen her. She didn’t want to drag anyone else down into the pit, as she was still contending with the fact that River had insisted on putting himself in harm’s way. Scrambling for something lighthearted to say, she landed on, “anyway. I’m bad at goodbyes, so-” and ducked inside the car. A moment later, the engine roared to life and she switched on the radio.

“That’s my cue,” River told the Aldecaldos. When he got to the passengers side, Panam was waving with a smirk. He settled in and put the seat back as far as it would go before glancing over at V. “How’d you manage twenty eight years with those social skills?” he teased, stretching out his legs.  
  
She snorted and her shoulders shook with laughter as she put the Javelina in gear, easing on the gas. “Took lots of hard knocks.” 

“Yeah? Can’t imagine you bein’ much for scrapping.” 

“I’m not,” she agreed, “But I make an alright punching bag. How ‘bout you? Get in much trouble?” It was true- she’d been the kid with the loudest mouth and the first to swing to back it up.  _ That _ he’d have no trouble believing.

“Nah. Kept my head down as much as I could. ‘Course, I was already six feet tall at fourteen, so nobody really bothered me.” 

V gave him a once-over. “What I wouldn’t give for that intimidation factor.”

“I’d say you managed alright without it.” 

“Aw, give it up, River. You were never scared of me.” Her observation was fond and he thought about that while watching the city streak by.

“And you were never scared of me,” he pointed out, “that makes us even.”

“Yeah, and that sure got under your skin. Your badge didn’t mean shit from where I was sittin’.” 

“Maybe it was a little refreshing?” It had actually been intriguing, but he wasn’t being entirely honest with himself, as he’d tried to define their stations from the jump. He was a cop, she was a merc, and together they were a formidable pair- for _ one _ job. She could operate outside of his red tape, which had been useful and gave him access to places and info he couldn’t attain on his own. What he hadn’t been expecting was for her to take a personal interest in his raised stakes. Over the course of their investigation, he found himself running into inconvenient situations and according to the boundaries he’d laid out, he should’ve stayed put while she eliminated the Animals at the Red Queen’s Race. It was a good thing he hadn’t or the spiked BD would’ve turned her brain to paste and he would’ve never experienced the intensity of the weeks that followed.  _ Best damn weeks of my life _ . And the worst, but she’d been there struggling right alongside him. 

“Guess I lucked out that you were the one cop in Night City without a hard-on for your own authority,” V thought out loud, and he eyed her. She was focused on the road, but smiling, fingers tapping the steering wheel in time with the music and a few loose strands of hair escaping from beneath her hat over one shoulder. They’d been through hell to get where they were and he’d relive every second all over again if it meant ending up back here. He grappled with the fist closing around his heart and she was none the wiser as she sang low along to the radio. Her voice was husky and she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but he couldn’t help the surge of emotions it drudged up seeing her guard down. “A thing of beauty, I know…”

They took the nine out through the edges of the city and gradually, billboards became smaller before being altogether replaced by dilapidated structures and cacti. He remembered V mentioning the Sunset Motel the night before and pointed at it as they drove past. She merely grinned and he was thankful for the nomads’ all-terrain modifications when asphalt became dirt and rock dispersed between stretches of sand. Between its desert-readiness and V’s expert handling, cruising through the hills wasn’t nearly as sketchy as he’d anticipated. 

“You’re quiet, River. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” she asked, hazarding a glance between rocky outcrops. 

He returned her look, parsing in a smile. “Thinkin’ there’s nowhere I’d rather be.” 

“Desert’s won you over, huh?”

“More like the company,” he specified. 

“You’re not gonna be sayin’ that when I mop the floor with you.”

River scoffed, “We’ll see about that.” 

V liked the way he exuded quiet confidence, never braggy about his own skillset. Sure, he had a decade and some change worth of experience on her, but she had expensive chrome and a natural affinity for firearms. And she was far too petty and competitive to return his humility. “You could concede now, save yourself the humiliation.”

“And stroke your ego before you can earn it? No dice, V.”

“My ego’s healthy, but I’m in the biz of backing up my rep.” 

“High stakes,” he commented. “How ya gonna feel when you’re shown up by a smalltime PI?” 

_Oh_ , he was playing along. V leveled a smirk in his direction. “I’m gonna feel better about my favorite gumshoe walkin’ the streets alone.” 

“We could fix that. You could do somethin’ other than accumulating a body count with those skills of yours.” 

“Mm,” V hummed. “An interesting proposal.” She downshifted as they approached a flat patch of desert with a berm hugging a precipice. There were already targets spaced apart on the shelf of dirt and a wooden overhang built to serve as a shelter from the sun closer to where she parked the Javelina. Ammo was stacked at the benches beneath, courtesy of V’s contact. She killed the engine, propping an elbow on the steering wheel as she turned to look at River. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”

He leaned across the center console and she anticipated a kiss, dipping closer, only for him to pull her hat down over her face and hustle out the door before she could recover. She shrieked and hurried after him, but he was already fetching her range duffel from the trunk. 

“Lot of firepower in here judgin’ by how heavy-” He hefted the straps over his shoulder and she rounded the Javelina, ripping her hat off to grab a fistful of his shirt and dragging him down into a forceful kiss. If he’d been so inclined, he could have pried her off or refused to be pulled, but he ended up sweeping her into his arms and stumbling back into the fender for leverage. Her persistence and the strain of her body against his was enough to rumble a needy sigh through his chest. 

River had never realized someone could feel punch-drunk after a kiss, but when she broke off to stroll casually away, he felt like he’d just been socked in the gut. He grinned and scrubbed a hand over his stubble before following her tracks in the sand. 

V was already producing magazines from the ammo cans when he caught up and gestured with one downrange. “Twenty-five yards,” she said, and raised it to the berm beyond. “Then fifty. Best for variety.” 

He unzipped the bag and began to lay out her arsenal of well-loved firearms. The scent of gun oil was unmistakable and he figured that she must have spent hours preparing them for this trip. There were a few rifles- her treasured Widow Maker and an SOR-22- but the selection of pistols was larger. She preferred the convenience and concealability of a good handgun, especially considering that she was something of a grenadier. He finished setting out the last one- an Apparition- and she unholstered her own heavily modded Dying Night from her belt to lay down beside it. With a quirk of his brow, he did the same with his Crash and picked up her weapon of choice for inspection.

“Nice wrap,” he commented, running the edge of his thumb along the gold and black skin. Lexingtons were generally 9 millimeter, but this one had been rechambered to house 45 caliber bullets. The composite grip was custom and fit her smaller hand better than his and when he lined it up to look down the sights he was surprised at her uncomplicated take. “You use irons on this one?” 

“Aim assist implants, ‘member?” she asked, winking one of those expensive eyes and waving the palm with her ballistic coprocessor. “The bulkier ones just get in the way. Go ahead, take her for a spin. I’m sure your chrome eye has some bells and whistles I dunno about.” 

He rasped a chuckle with a tilt of his head as he chambered a bullet, “Not too many. Enough to make myself useful to the NCPD.” 

“Well?” she asked, waiting for him to elaborate. He aimed at a target on the far right and fired off three shots, dust clearing to reveal a tight grouping just a tad left of center. The little pistol had more recoil than he’d anticipated, even when compensating for the larger rounds. 

“Eh, trajectory and explosive analysis along with your standard fare. Why, you wanna poke around in it?” 

She was nodding her appraisal at his aim, considering the question. “Better not, I’m no doc.” Reaching for his Overture, she took up stance beside him and pumped another three shots into the target left of his. “Hell of a kick,” she noted, waiting for the wind to clear the smoke of impact. Her grouping was sloppier than his, but the holes peppered center mass. Each would have been a killshot, but together, they would have left a crater.

“Damn, V. Well done.” 

The smile resulting from his praise was fierce, jagged. “You’ve got time to catch up, cowboy.” 

“I’d better get to it, then.” He moved to switch out his firearm and V studied his loose posture when he shrugged out of his jacket. Getting out of the city did wonders for River, it seemed. Her eyes roved over the landscape as the wind tore her hair out of its binding and she wondered how feasible it would be to move out to the badlands away from most of the urban sprawl. He divided his time between her place and Joss’, but she’d been getting antsy and claustrophobic even before they’d met. There were a few places that remained independent of corp ownership out this way, but most would need a good polish to live up to her standards required for moving. That way, she could hear the crickets at night instead of the raised voices of her neighbors, see the stars.

As the afternoon dragged on and they went through the full battery of weaponry she’d brought, the thought took root and blossomed into intention. She tucked it away in favor of competition and River gave her a good run for her money, surprisingly proficient with rifles even though he said he hadn’t touched one in years. When they’d finally exhausted their supply of targets, V packed up and collected their work downrange to bring back for a final judgement. It was neck in neck- River took long range and she won handguns- so they called a tie when they called it a day and revved back through the dunes towards city limits.

  
  


**21:13**

  
  


“Thought I’d jogged all the sand out at Pepper n’ Spice,” V was saying when they got back to her apartment. River had suggested the eatery for dinner, insisting that she try the vanilla dumplings. It had been an… interesting experience. Her sweet tooth manifested mostly in drinks and she’d had a few of those, too, necessitating River’s drive home. He’d kept up with her alcohol consumption, but his had been beers where hers had been cocktails with percentages in the double-digits. Still, she’d rallied on the way back and showed no signs of being inebriated now. 

She kicked off her dusty boots at the door and made quick work of her top and bandana, shaking granules out while he watched, amused. 

“I don’t even wanna think about all the crevices I’m gonna find it in,” he groaned as he realized his own boots were full of it. 

“I do,” she shot back with a mischievous smirk. “Shower?” 

“Read my mind.” He turned her around and undid the clasp on her bra, brushing the hair over her shoulder in a way that was supposed to be tender, but he started laughing when he noticed sand falling out of it. “ _ Man _ , are you dusty.”

V shimmied out of her pants and discarded them in the pile. “Mhmm, that’s what happens when your input gets the bright idea of prone shootin’.” 

“Hey, it’s for accuracy,” was his only excuse. He processed what she’d called him a moment later. “Oh, I’m just your input now?” 

She glanced back at him on her way to the shower and found that he’d made short work of shedding his own threads. The sight made her mouth go dry and she turned a slow semicircle to walk the rest of the way backwards, biting her lip. “Not  _ just _ ,” she cooed, eyes following the downy line of hair beneath his navel. 

His indignant huff exaggerated the divots in the muscled plane of his abdomen, but he pursued her regardless. The hot water and billows of steam felt incredible. They’d dressed for daytime desert temperatures and by the time they left the restaurant, the Javelina read forty-five degrees. 

V had begun to lather up independently to get the grit out of her hair and he watched the water runnel down the lines of her body, carrying suds that smelled like vanilla and spice. When wet, the silver-white color of her hair deepened to gunmetal gray and the finer strands plastered to her throat, her shoulders. She was a myriad of sunkissed skin and ink and glinting chrome. He soaped up his palms and she sighed gratefully when he slid them up her sides and across her back, fingers dragging between her shoulder blades with enough pressure to work out the tension. She turned her face to the stream of water, granting him better access to the muscles he was tracing and shifting his attention to the curve of her ass pressed against him. He swallowed when that press became a grind along his growing arousal. He’d already been hard when they got undressed, but he could feel his heartbeat in it now. 

“Tease.” His accusation was gravelly and she responded with a hum. The water streamed down her spine as she angled her upper body against the wall, catching in the dimples of her lower back. 

“I’m not teasin’,” she said. Her eyeliner was beginning to run when she peered over her shoulder with a look that could turn steel molten. He generally wasn’t a fan of fucking in the shower due to lack of purchase and friction, but he’d happily indulge V if it meant getting inside of her. 

Her heated gaze was permission enough for River to nudge her ankles further apart and the resulting gasp of anticipation was music to his ears. He lazily pulled at his erection before lining it up with her entrance and resting the head there long enough to make her squirm. She was hot and slick and impatient and _ damn _ was it sexy.

“Now who’s the tease,” she panted. Her hand against the tile became a white-knuckled fist and the other traveled down the front of her body to toy frustratedly with her clit. She could feel his chuckle rumble through where their skin was touching. 

He murmured something to the effect of ‘have it your way’ and snapped his hips forward to fill her with one smooth, deep stroke. The angle was enough to make it toe the border of pain and she sucked a breath between her teeth in appreciation as he found a steady rhythm that pulled it back from that precipice. His metal hand hit the tile to the right of her head and the way the artificial joints curled stroked her pride. Organic fingers cupped her breast and he caged her against the shower wall with his body, muscles jumping with tension against her skin between thrusts. He was tightly wound and holding back. The threadbare restraint stole her breath as much as his building pace.

V cursed, pressing her cheek to the tile, and urged him to fuck her harder. Ever so good at following orders, he obliged and the hand around her breast slipped up to close around her throat. Her vocal chords vibrated in his grip with a moan, tripping up his brutal pace momentarily before driving it harder. 

She growled her approval, losing herself in the feeling of being fucked in place. The solid body at her back nearly swallowed hers. River ducked his head to drag his mouth up her neck following the line of his tightening fingers, nipping her earlobe before murmuring words of praise into her ear. He told her how gorgeous she looked filled with him, how he’d been thinking about this all day, how he was close.

The strain in his voice was the final shove that she needed and she came hard, gritting her teeth as he continued pounding into her. He grunted at the convulsions and hilted himself once, twice more, before releasing with a ragged groan inside her. The aftershocks were intense and he rested his forehead beside his fist against the wall as he rode them out. 

V was the first to come to her senses and her swallow in his grasp reminded him to ease up. He took half a step back and helped her straighten, spinning her to face him for a kiss. She responded, eager to his tender, and grinned against his mouth when he made to pull away. “Water’s cold,” she said.

“So it is,” he noticed, grinning back. They set about finishing their shower and V paid special attention to helping him lather off, returning his favor from before they’d gotten distracted. He relaxed beneath her touch when she dragged her short nails across his buzzed scalp and the back of his neck before kneading down his sides. His organic eye drooped shut as he sighed, leaning into her. Finally, he muttered, “Much as I like this, I’m about to freeze.” 

V shut off the water and grabbed a pair of towels, handing him one. “Sorry,” she told him, and he opened his eye to watch her dry off while doing the same. “Water never stays hot for long, I shoulda factored that in.”

“Worth it,” he said honestly. She may have changed his opinion of hooking up in the shower. 

By the time they’d gotten dressed in something suitable for bed, they were both fighting yawns and decided to curl up in bed with a movie playing in the living room. The opening credits had barely rolled before V realized the breathing beneath her cheek had become shallow. With thoughts of the range and vanilla dumplings and the wide open skies of the badlands, she dropped into sleep as well. 


	18. Chapter 18

**22:24 01 Feb 2077**

“Hey, kid.”

V ground the heel of her palm into one eye and focused on Johnny’s hazy form flitting into view. It had been days since they’d last spoken- argued- at her apartment and his timing couldn’t have been better. She was waiting for Rogue at the docks, choking down a gritty protein bar while the queen of the Afterlife took her sweet time. She’d wanted to meet at the club, but V was already finishing a job near location and nursing a hell of a headache after being socked in the dome. She vaguely wondered how many sucker punches it would take for shit to just stop working. 

“Hey, Johnny,” she responded, her voice dropping apologetically. “Good to see you.”

“I’d say the same, but there wasn’t anywhere for me to go. Got a cig?”

She dug through her pockets, producing the crushed package and tapping one into her palm. “Yeah, might help my head,” she murmured with a wince. She lit up and took a drag, stuffing the rest back into her jacket. She dispersed information in smoke. “Bout to meet your girl, wring out some info on Smasher.” Johnny paced mutely, prompting her to ask, “We good?”

“Yeah, V. We’re good.” 

“Then the uncharacteristic silence is because of…?” 

“We’re closin’ in. The rats are gonna scurry.”

V shed ash with a flick. “You sayin’ you’re antsy? Why, you got performance anxiety?” 

“Heh, you’re gonna be doin’ the performing.” Johnny turned on his heel, thumbing his aviators further up on the bridge of his nose. There was an undercurrent of uneasy energy in his stance, tapping foot and frown factored in.

“So you’re worried about mine, then?” she asked.

He shot a finger gun at her. “Gonk idea, lettin’ your boyfriend tag along. He’s gonna slow ya down, give you somethin’ to worry about other than the objective.”

V exhaled, waving the fog of her breath away. “That ain’t what I’m worried about.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s the problem.  _ You’re _ worried he’s gonna get himself zeroed.” 

She sucked her teeth, throwing down the smoke to stomp it out. “I’m not a fan of the idea either, but I think you’re underestimating both of us. ‘Sides, one more person watchin’ our backs isn’t such a bad thing. He’s got a personal interest in seeing me out alive.” 

“Cute,” Johnny’s tone was sarcastic. “Think you know what you gotta do. Grind up some pills in his drink, tie him up, go it alone.” 

V could entertain Johnny’s spitballing up to a certain extent- it wasn’t like she hadn’t had the idea herself to somehow isolate River from the situation- but the suggestion of drugging him raised her hackles something awful. She must’ve been staring Johnny down, because he raised his hands in defeat.

“Or… fuckin’ don’t. Whatever, V. It’s your funeral.”

“Glad you’re back, Johnny,” she finally sighed, “I know what you’re gettin’ at. I appreciate the concern, but I’m not gonna take your advice. He’d never forgive me.”

“Who’s underestimating him now?” He crossed his arms. “Better to give him that option than be complicit in putting him six feet under, right?”

“Get the _ fuck  _ out of my head,” she growled. He’d just voiced her exact thoughts on the matter. Johnny cocked a grin that all but confirmed he’d been digging around in her undercurrent. He lowered his aviators, strolling closer. 

“Sometimes I can’t tell where your thoughts begin and end. Startin’ to sound like mine.” 

V dragged a hand over her face, streaking already smudged eyeliner over the lines of rose gold chrome dividing her cheeks. It was worrisome that even Johnny was noticing the blurred lines. She wet her lips and glanced through him at the Ebunike docked in the fog, then checked the time. “Your output is runnin’ late.”

“The queen keeps her own schedule these days, looks like. One might even think you’re just early.”

V made a noise of frustration. She wanted a shower, a cold beer, some takeout… and the balm of River’s presence. He was still chasing ghosts on the other side of the city, something about an ex-cop that got disappeared. When they’d parted ways that morning he’d still been stewing over leads in a way that made her think he was taking his case personally. Maybe he saw himself mirrored in it, caught an echo of what could’ve been if she hadn’t come along at the right time. Or maybe he was just being himself, committed and driven to do the right thing in a way that she couldn’t comprehend. V’s tunnel vision only encompassed jobs that stroked her own sense of justice and she couldn’t give a shit less what happened to some faceless badge without the right intel. 

Johnny gave her a nod, pulling her back to the present, and she raised her gaze at approaching headlights. 

“Finally,” she muttered, straightening from her lean. 

Rogue parked her sports car and climbed out with a toss of her hair. “Hey, kid,” she greeted V, gesturing for her to come closer. “Got something for ya.” 

As V shuffled over, Rogue popped the trunk and produced an article of clothing to toss at her. It was too dark to make out without her scanner, but she could tell the fabric was leather when she caught it. Her optics engaged, outlining the Samurai logo on the back. 

Johnny let out a low whistle. “Well ain’t that somethin’.”

“What is it?” V asked them both, and his response was superimposed over Rogue’s in her head.

“My jacket.”

“Johnny’s jacket. A replica, of course. The real thing is probably dust by now.” 

V touched the design with an approximation of reverence, glancing aside at Johnny, who encouraged her to try it on. “Shit, this is aces.” 

“Glad you like it,” Rogue responded, slipping a gun into the back of her belt. She tucked a couple of loaded magazines in her pockets and shut the trunk. “Now let’s mop up this motherfucker.” 

V was pulling on the jacket, displaying the fit for the grinning engram. When Rogue strode by, she broke off to follow and drew her pistol to hold at the low-ready. They’d parked far enough away that there was a shipyard to traverse between them and the Ebunike. Shipping crates dotted the asphalt, dividing the city-light illuminated fog. They’d need to slip into the dark and through a cargo station- preferably undetected, as this particular turf belonged to Maelstrom- before they could board the ship. 

“You think he’s here?” V asked, just loud enough for her to hear. She was focused on several cameras mounted across the no-man’s land and took them down with a daemon. Their indicator lights dimmed and the lenses sank into a neutral position. 

“Smasher? Unlikely. Grayson should be, though.” 

V considered, studying Rogue’s silhouette. She was limber and spry for an old-timer, sure, but it was obvious that she was suited to the quiet life of backroom deals these days. The way she moved was a little stiff, a tad buttoned up. If she caught a hook, she might shatter with those rigid bones. “Lemme take point.”

The older woman let out a quiet chuckle, “Why? Think I’m rusty?”

“ _ Know _ you’re rusty.”

Rogue shot her a look that would liquify a lesser merc’s bowels. “Careful, kid. I still got it.”

V flashed a smile back in the dark. “Just lemme take the first hit, will ya?”

“Fine.” 

Rogue hung back long enough for V to flatten herself against the cold metal of a cargo container and hazard a peek around the side. There were two goons on patrol, but it was evident that they didn’t see much action. They were jawing it up, trading jokes with holstered firearms.  _ Perfect _ . That much chrome was a dream come true for any netrunner worth their salt. She blanked the first one’s optics and unleashed a contagion on the soft of the other. The virus ripped through both of them: quick, clean work that left the shipyard unguarded. 

V signaled their advance and stole across the open space with soft soles, Rogue hot on her heels. If only Jackie could see her now.  _ Fuckin’ made it, Jack. The goddamn Queen of the afterlife has my six. _

The station ahead was dim, but she read several heat signatures inside. One was in a back room and would require a minor detour to prevent an unwanted tail should they discover the bodies of the others. They crept inside and V seized one haunting a surveillance station, snapping his cervical bones until he was a sagging bag of meat that she stepped over to catch up to Rogue. She’d neutralized another in the mouth of a corridor connecting buildings and V was delighted to discover the entryway to that backroom had an easily accessed interface. It lit up briefly as V fried the circuit. Problem solved. 

Johnny hovered in her periphery, flitting into visibility around each corner as they gained ground. He pointed out heat signatures a beat before V noticed them and she dropped to a crouch to thread a silencer on the end of the Dying Night. With a nod to Rogue, the two broke from cover and eliminated a small cluster of guards at the access point to the ship. V wasn’t used to working with a partner, but it made their task much less complicated. None of them had the time to bring up comms before they were lying in a crumpled semicircle. 

“There she is,” Rogue said, gesturing to the hulking silhouette as she slapped a fresh mag into her pistol. “The Ebunike.”

“Not lookin’ so hot,” V commented, following suit. Her optics flashed an indication of restored RAM. 

“Even shittier on the inside.”

V gave her an inquisitive look before ascending the stairs, foot after sideways foot to prevent the rusted metal from broadcasting their location. With the scouts dark, it was only a matter of time before more Maelstrom gangers went looking for them. 

She scanned the upper deck briefly, pleasantly surprised that no complications awaited them on the top level, and knocked out a pair of cameras to their right. “Clear,” she whispered before creeping towards the stern. The deck was stacked with more shipping containers, a few left ajar. V couldn’t resist the welcoming interior and promise of a potential stash, so she ducked inside one and took inventory of anything worth klepping. While she was stuffing a few maxdocs into her pocket, Rogue was reading off the serial numbers painted onto the side. 

“Well, I know who jumped Kang Tao last month,” she murmured. “Thoroughly pro work.” 

“You sure it was this merch?” V asked. 

Rogue thrust a finger at the manifest. “Sent three crews myself to find it for the Chinese. Whole city was on alert.” 

Johnny’s image wavered. “Grayson,” he reminded V, and she jerked her head at Rogue in a bid to advance. 

“Two scouts, more on the top deck,” V relayed with a look at her scanner. She was preparing another remote takedown when Rogue darted from cover and got the attention of the first ganger at the foot of the stairs.  _ Fuck.  _ There went the element of surprise. An exchange of gunfire gave V no choice but to follow.

“Hear that?” Johnny asked, his voice clipped with anger. V strained her ears. There were shouts from above as Rogue eliminated her target. 

“What, Grayson?” 

“No, not that. He’s fuckin’ shooting at me with my own gun. Malorian thirty-five sixteen. Signature sound, I’d know it anywhere.”

V listened. He was right, the sound was familiar, even though the memories it unearthed didn’t belong to her. She winced, intensely uncomfortable with the ease of access to Johnny’s synapses, and cursed. Two more heat signatures were on approach. She leveled her pistol at one’s head and pumped a few rounds into glowing optics before snapping her sights to the other and doing the same.

Rogue seized the opportunity of a clear path to Grayson and ascended the stairs, leaving V in a scramble to catch up. By the time she did, one more round had fired off and the scene that awaited her prompted a revisit of her assessment of the older woman. Grayson was straining against a pair of oil drums, bloody hand to his gut while Rogue held him at gunpoint.

“Take the gun,” Johnny urged, and V did so, kicking it towards herself with the heel of her boot. 

“My, Rogue. We not playin’ for the same team anymore?” Grayson managed through grit teeth, coughing up a sanguine bubble.

That gave V pause as she stuffed the Malorian into the back of her jeans. The man was grunting something about shivs and unsuspecting backs. Her glance flicked to Rogue. 

“Where’s Smasher?” she asked, unperturbed. 

“Better loosen those lips,” V supplied, “Your wound looks bad.” 

Grayson rolled his head against the metal surface, eyes settling on her. “I’m happy to talk. Ever wonder how Rogue survived after the attack on the tower? How the hell no one ever sniffed her out? Her alone, out of all that Atlantis trash-”   
  


“Shut the fuck up,” V growled. Whatever the story was here, it was irrelevant. The rage roaring to life ignited unbidden. She guessed it was Johnny’s gasoline stoking that fire. “Smasher- now!”

“He’s with the Arasakas. But I’d wager you knew that already.”

“And?” Rogue’s patience was fraying. “When’s he due back?”

“Not comin’ back to this rathole. Not ever. I hung back to tie up a couple’a loose ends.” 

“Then you’re worthless,” V concluded, raising her weapon. Rogue stopped her with a hand.   
  
“Lemme do the honors, V.”

Grayson chose that moment to make an inquest. “Why you so interested in Smasher, anyway?” 

“Could say we have a mutual friend in Johnny Silverhand,” V answered between her teeth, but lowered her barrel out of respect for Rogue. “I’m interested in what happened to ‘im.” 

“Heh, why?” he asked.   
  
“You had his iron.” 

Rogue followed up with a question of her own, “Smasher give it to you?” 

“Uh huh. Reward for a job well done.” Grayson swallowed hard, cringing through a shock of pain. His vitals were erratic as he tried to rally.

“What job?” V asked.

“Takin’ out the trash. Why? Wanna hear all about it, how Johnny died soaked in his own piss, neurons scorched by Soulkiller?”    
  
Poor choice of words for a dead man. V’s blood was boiling. She stalked a few steps forward and crouched with careful intention, her face etched with lines of disgust as she seized his hand in an iron vice. She thrust it harder into the gaping bullethole. “What the _ fuck _ did you do with him?” 

Grayson writhed, trying to scramble further back. His voice was thin with agony. “Buried him in the badlands, out near the oil fields. 101 northbound, then head for the landfill. Dig deep enough, you might even find a...  _ shit-smeared silver arm _ .” 

Johnny’s silhouette was a blur in her periphery. She barely heard him as her scope of the world zeroed in on the quaking tendons in her grip. This man was begging to be flatlined talking like that. Big words, little man. He was just another thug with empty pockets begging for whatever scraps the corps deemed suitable to toss his way. “Heard enough,” Johnny said. “Finish the fucker.”

“I wanna rip my eyes out just lookin’ at him,” Rogue muttered.

“N-no, wait! I’ve got somethin’.” The whites of Grayson’s eyes were visible now, wide as he glanced between the two women holding his life in their hands. “Somethin’ of Silverh-”

Before he could finish that last syllable, the Dying Night flashed and V’s bullet hit the back of his skull. Death rattles, echoing gunfire, and clinking brass didn’t even take the edge off. A tremor ran through her body, carrying up into the tension of her jaw.

Johnny retreated with a, “Good. One dickspurt less.” 

V dragged in a breath and released it in increments, breaking eye contact with the corpse. She pulled her hand back and shook off the blood. 

“Let’s delta,” Rogue said. She was already beginning to walk away when V found her feet. “Fuckin’ pointless, this whole thing. No leads, nowhere to go from here.” 

“What do you mean?” V caught up and stood in her way. Johnny was urging her to say something- anything- to reassure her that Smasher would get his. “Johnny says we’re still gonna flatline that fucker.” 

Something that she’d said made Rogue bristle and the older woman got in her face. This close, the hair-thin lines around her eyes and mouth were visible. But underneath, deeply buried, there was fear. “You don’t get it. It isn’t even about Smasher. He’s just the goddamn tip of the iceberg. Even if we get him, what does that get  _ us _ ?” She seemed to realize her misdirected anger and her expression rippled. She shoved V aside. “Later, kid.” 

V made to follow, but Johnny stopped her.

“Let ‘er go, V. She’ll get it together. Times like this, she’d rather be alone.”

She nodded, holstering her weapon to palm her hands on her jeans. Everything was coming back into clarity and she felt like that protein bar was going to make an encore appearance. She wanted to sit down, to think, but this wasn’t a secure location. 

Johnny’s sigh got her attention. “Let’s hit those oil fields. I wanna see what it looks like out there.” 

V wet her lips with another nod.

  
  
  


**01:58 02 Feb 2077**

  
  


The 101 was deserted this far past city limits. Night City’s eternal bustle didn’t extend to the Badlands and certainly not to the oil fields. The occasional police cruiser passed on patrol, but V was so embroiled in thought that her speed gauge stayed well within legal limits as she cornered the Arch and headed further into the territory Grayson indicated. It seemed that batting with big league players unleashed heavy implications, complications. Whatever- or whoever- Rogue had gotten in bed with, the kickback was substantial. She was clearly looking to slip a leash.

V frowned into the wind. Normally, this ride would have soothed her nerves with the blur of deep navy skies edged in black hills, stars yawning in the void above. But all she could feel was the cold hand of…  _ something _ creeping up the back of her neck. Dread, maybe. Fate? Or despair. If this was Johnny’s influence, he wasn’t self-aware enough to pinpoint exactly what it was either.

She dropped gears and studied her surroundings, raising her goggles and pulling her bandana down as she walked the Arch into a patch of rough gravel. Johnny appeared when she killed the engine and she could feel the gravitas crushing him. It stole the breath right out of her lungs. 

“This is it, huh?” he asked, making like he was going to kick a loose stone. He phased through it, of course, and V dismounted to follow.

“‘Bout level with the landfill Dex had me dumped in,” she ventured, but there was no spirit to it. Scrap littered the scenery, rotted containers and twisted sheet metal. There was nothing there to indicate that the infamous Johnny Silverhand had been laid to rest in that very spot. V watched his shoulders deflate and forced her eyes away to mitigate the squeezing in her chest. He’d lived his life fighting the system that flatlined him- and for what? All that rage, all that righteous indignation, forgoing everything good to chase the tail of that hydra. She leaned on an upended shipping crate and slid to sit across from where he contemplated the life stolen from him. His body lay somewhere beneath their feet, discarded like trash, all that remained. 

The wind tore through the refuse and they simply sat in the deafening silence together, staring out at the emptiness of the night. V didn’t have words poignant or soft enough to create an angle from which she could reach him. He was submerged in a black pit. All she could offer was her presence, and she wasn’t even sure if he wanted that. 

“Nothing,” he finally said, his voice gravelly in a way she’d never heard. “There’s nothing here at all.”

“I know, Johnny,” she breathed. She wanted to reach out and put a comforting hand on him, but couldn't. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” 

“I dunno what I was expecting. A marker, maybe. Something. Anything.” 

V’s eyes stung as she unknotted her bandana and she touched it to her tongue before scrubbing the dirt-crusted surface of the metal she was sitting on. She burnished a ring in the filth and unsecured the small, sharp knife on the inside of her boot. Johnny looked up at the sound of scraping and watched her etch something with careful letters. Her vision was blurred, but the neat script was clear as she blinked it into focus. The initials JS and the year 2023 shone in the reflected light of the moon. She touched her handiwork, meeting his gaze.

“It ain’t much, but…” 

He managed a smile, the weight lifting a fraction when she smiled back. Fuckin’ soft-ass nomad and her youthful sentimentality. That emotional depth and range that irked him so damn badly every other day was now pointed directly at him and he mostly just felt  _ undeserving _ . “Say this was my actual grave. What would you write? Here lies Johnny Silverhand…” He gestured with his namesake, bidding her to finish the thought.

“Guy who saved my life,” she said softly, looking down at her knife and turning the blade in her hands. She may as well have jammed it between his ribs if he was flesh and blood. He slipped off his aviators and stood to walk off a few paces before turning back, posture loose.

“V, you’ve got no idea how badly I want that to be true.” He turned his head, not quite shaking it, before looking down at her. “I know I’ve fucked up a lot of things. Used or let down anyone every last person that gave me their trust. Blind, selfish bastard that I was.”  
  
She sucked in a breath and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. It was all too much. She was witnessing an engram’s self-realization. A  _ friend’s _ dawning awareness of the life they’d whittled down to a singular, ultimately futile purpose. Tears pricked at her eyes and she sniffed them back, masking it by clearing her throat. 

“I’ve managed one thing for now,” he said. “Not to fuck this up, what we have.” 

He tapped the pockets of his vest out of habit and she shifted to produce a cigarette from her own, lighting up as he sat to continue. 

“Most people I thought were my friends, they couldn’t stand to be in the same room with me. You’re fuckin’ closest to me by a long shot. There twenty-four seven. And yet… you don’t seem to hate my livin’ guts.” 

She took a drag, tilting her head back to stare at the moon and wreathing it in a cloud of smoke upon her exhale. “Cryin’ shame we didn’t have this heart-to-heart earlier. Woulda made it all easier.”

He glanced at her gratefully. “Never found the right moment.”

That wrung a bitterly amused laugh out of her very bones. She dashed an errant tear away before it could slip down her cheek. “That’s a cop-out if I ever heard one, Johnny.” 

He smirked, “‘Member wakin’ up at Viks? ‘I’m seein’ things, I’m scared’. Then moanin’ at Misty’s about how you didn’t wanna die?” 

She could see the direction he was taking this in, filling the gaps of her understanding with how meaningless words might’ve been if he’d chosen to use them while she was grappling with her own mortality. The point was flimsy and she shot back by reminding him, “Remember how you whined for smokes in the middle of the night? Complained about how you couldn’t kill me?” 

Johnny stood, “Never thought we’d make it this far.” 

“When you said you let down your friends… d’ya mean Rogue?” she asked, remembering the tenderness in his voice when he told her to let her go. It was wild to experience that secondhand sorrow watching her walk away.

He shrugged one shoulder, “Alt, Kerry, Rogue, Santiago…”

V pressed her lips together to mitigate the trembling. “All’s not lost yet, not with Rogue,” she reminded him. 

“It’s been fifty years, Val. I can’t just insert myself in her life like nothin’s changed.” 

“You already have,” she pointed out.

He huffed a breath out his nose. “True enough.” When she looked up at him, he said, “Y’know… I did promise her I’d take her to the movies. Long time ago.” 

“Good idea.”

Looking down at V where she sat grappling with that storm of emotion, he almost didn’t want to ask, and yet, he knew that she was searching for a way to shoulder some of his burden.  _ Fuckin’ soft-ass nomad _ , he thought. This time, there was no edge to it. “Call her for me? Ask if she’s free some night? Thing is, you’d have to surrender control again.” 

“Of course, Johnny,” she said quietly, like he’d just given her a precious gift. Her eyes were glossy as she took another puff and released it. “I’ll call her.” 

“Okay. Let’s delta. Nothin’ out here to see after all.” 

He looked like he wanted to reach down and help her to her feet, and that prompted V to get up. “Worth comin’ out all the same?”

“Absolutely. Thanks, V. Of all the heads I coulda popped up in, hella glad it was yours.” 

V was about to tell him that it was no problem, but by the time she’d found her voice, he was gone. The breeze whistled and she dropped her cigarette in the dirt, taking one last look at Johnny’s makeshift headstone. “Johnny fuckin’ Silverhand,” she told the emptiness. “Jackie, you wouldn’t believe this shit ten beers deep.” 

As she walked back to his Arch, the dam broke and she frustratedly wiped her wet eyes to put on her goggles. It was late and she’d ignored River’s ping during the conversation with Johnny. He was home and waiting on her with dinner and she couldn’t imagine anywhere she’d rather be after having her heart run through its paces. She fired off a text as she kicked a leg over the bike. 

>> I’m on my way. Can’t wait to see you. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short little chapter of angst and fluff because V needed to vent and we didn't really get that in-game. Enjoy :) :)

**03:21 02 Feb 2077**

  
  


V keyed open the door to her apartment and stepped wearily inside, leaning against the entryway wall to kick off her boots. She was accustomed to keeping strange hours, but 3 AM was pushing it and she hadn’t eaten anything but a protein bar since that morning. River peered around the kitchenette, having heard her toss her keys to the computer desk. Her face was expressionless, eyes rimmed with smudged liner, and the sluggish way she moved set off alarm bells in the back of his mind. 

“Hey, babe,” he tested the waters as he approached. She met him halfway and ducked against his chest wordlessly. The way her cold fingers snarled in the fabric of his shirt gave him pause, but he brought his arms around her snug and secure, settling his chin against her hair. That was cold, too, ruffled by the ride back to Night City proper. She’d mentioned she was meeting up with Rogue to track down Grayson and nothing about her current state made him think she struck paydirt. “Didn’t go too well, eh?” He smoothed her silver hair and pulled back a fraction to lift her chin. The careful motion he used to wipe the lines on her cheeks encouraged her to meet his eyes.

“Went alright, I guess, ‘far as objectives go,” she told him, her voice tired. She sighed through her nose and angled into his touch. His presence was already bolstering her reserves just as she thought it would. “Let’s have dinner, I’ll tell ya all about it. I’m starvin’.” 

River made a noise of acquiescence and pressed his lips to the arch of one eyebrow. He felt it wrinkle beneath the kiss and her grip curled tighter in his threads. The carbon-fiber merc he’d said goodbye to that morning had checked out evidently, trading places with the young, frightened nomad who’d been surfacing more and more. Not too long ago, he would’ve laughed incredulously at the thought of V letting him just hold her, share comfort, but he’d wanted it all the same. Now that she trusted him enough to let him see that vulnerability, he chose his words and actions wisely as to not shutter it again. Their meal could wait a few minutes more- she would worm out of his grip once she was ready. 

V stood on her toes to loop her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly, gratefully, and he kissed her back in the physical language of  _ you’re welcome _ . She searched his face after straightening again and her smile was like dawn breaking, bringing slow warmth to chase away the dregs of night. “You’re too good to me, River. Think I smell pancakes.”

He smiled back, guiding her into the living room as he explained, “Figured you’d need the pick-me-up after that job.” 

“Speakin’ of jobs,” she began, taking an offered container to crack it open, “How’d your hunt shake out?”

“Better’n expected. Cop changed her name and skipped town.” The cushions sank as River sat beside her and doused his omelette in hot sauce. Tom’s was a real saving grace for their late-night, early-morning meals, offering breakfast fare around the clock. 

V swallowed a mouthful, eyebrows raising. “And you did what with this intel?”

“Buried it,” he responded. “Kicked dust over her trail.” 

“That’s my Riv. Forgoing a payday to do the right thing.” He would’ve thought she was mocking him if not for the affectionate tone. She’d have done the same and the look they shared confirmed it as she took another bite.

“My mainline might kick me out if I tried to make rent with blood money,” he joked. He’d offered to help her with bills or utilities after a discussion earlier that week about moving in together, but she declined in a spectacular fashion, threatening to never talk to him again if he didn’t put his wages towards business costs. Mostly he figured it was a matter of personal pride for V that she could throw eddies around, so he didn’t push it. Instead, he did what he could to help with upkeep and making sure she fed herself. He’d observed her come home and strip down to fall right into bed a handful of times and as they days drew on, the dark circles beneath her eyes became more pronounced, her ribs more easily counted. There was too much going on in that head of hers to leave room for frivolities like health. 

“Affirmative,” V chuckled. There wasn’t much mirth in it as she pushed her food around with her fork. Her thoughts were elsewhere, on those oil fields. 

“So, your job…” he tried. 

She shrugged weakly and glanced up at him as he mimicked the gesture exaggeratedly, teasingly. It was enough playfulness to drag her own to the surface and she squinted her eyes at him. 

“Alright, alright,” she relented. She took a sip of the iced coffee in front of her and dove into a retelling of her assault on the Ebunike with Rogue. He didn’t need to know the specifics of how many Maelstrom she took down to get there or the tactics she used- he knew that danger was a given in her line of work- but she did tell him about confronting Grayson and how it seemed like Rogue was hiding something big. He listened intently, asking probing questions between bites like “can you trust her?” and “how’s this gonna help us breach Arasaka?”. Her answers were stilted, as she was wondering those same things. Ultimately, she told him, they could trust Rogue. Even taking her kindled flame with Johnny out of the equation, there was no ally more stalwart than the one trying to get out from under a Corporate thumb. She’d seen the fear in Rogue’s eyes firsthand and knew in that moment she would do anything to cast off the chains.

When V got to the portion of the story involving Johnny, she produced his Malorian from the back of her jeans and laid it down on the table. They both stared at it, V because of its significance, and River because it was tangible proof of Silverhand’s presence. 

“So what’d he have to say about all this?” River asked. V blinked away the distant look in her eyes, dragging in a shaky breath.

“When I got to those oil fields, I could feel every fuckin’ thing he was feeling. All that remorse. Regret. Claustrophobia. Panic. Bone-crushing sadness.” She wet her lips, threading her fingers through the hair at her temples. “Thing that stood out most... he wasn’t angry, River. Not even a little ticked off. That fire was gone. Doused. He looked back on that life he’d lived in perfect clarity. Saw it for what it was and  _ hated _ himself.” 

River nodded, taking it all in, and she continued. “He gave up everything he had to take down the corps, made a weapon out of himself. I can’t fault him for it. Every martyr has similar motivations, but I think he finally regretted the methods he used to get there. In fightin’ Arasaka, he turned himself into exactly what they’re trying to make of all of us: soulless. All of his attachments, friendships, they were skin deep, ya know? He didn’t h-have-” V stuttered around her words and pressed her knuckles to her lips, trying again. “He didn’t have anything worth really livin’ for.”  
  
He sighed, placing a hand on her knee. “I get why you’re so torn up. Sometimes the good guys can be real dicks, too. He finally saw that the ends may not have justified the means and you were feelin’ it secondhand.”

V thought that was a great summary of all these moving pieces and parts, but she was caught on the feeling of standing layers above Johnny’s mortal remains and finding nothing there but desolation. It was a perfect metaphor for all that he’d strived for in life. Her breath hitched and she clamped down on River’s hand over her knee, lip trembling. “You shoulda seen it. Nothin’ there but waste. That’s what happens when you tango with the Corps. Thrown in a dump like you never really existed at all.”

River’s brow knitted with a realization. She was grappling with what would have been her story had the chip not kick-started her back to life- it probably extended to what had happened to Jackie as well. She was once again staring down the maw of a vicious opponent and she was afraid. Afraid of losing herself, afraid of losing him and having to bury another person that she loved. Arasaka had proven itself capable of disposing anyone bold enough to try and upset their foothold and in order to save her own life, she’d have to bargain with fate a second time.

“Do  _ my _ ends justify the means?” she asked, her voice breaking. Her expression was utterly wrecked, eyes wet around the edges. “Am I worth the sacrifice?”

Even as River’s heart squeezed, he mustered the strength required to form the words she needed to hear. “Did you hear anything you just said, Valerie?”

She blinked slowly at him, thinking, and he angled his body and leaned forward so that he could collect her hands in his. They were so small in comparison, fine-boned but calloused, her cyberware cold in his grip. Those hands had ended lives, probably disassembled and slapped together a million pieces of machinery, unleashed hailstorms of bullets and grenades. But they’d also saved lives and touched shoulders, wiped tears and helped raise children. They’d saved his nephew, wiped away the sweat on Randy’s brow. They’d ruffled Dorian’s hair, helped Joss with dishes, and taught Monique how to braid. Her ratio of means was perfect. Night City didn’t deserve her, but he was glad she’d wound up there all the same.

“We gonna live in fear of this corp and keep pumping you full of nanites every time you fall out, or are we going to blow down their doors and take back what they stole? Where’s V the anarchist, V who wants to smash Mikoshi, rob Arasaka blind and feed every empty stomach in city limits? Where’s my Valerie the Bakker who got thrown in the shit and learned to swim?” She dropped her head but he reached out to bring it right back up again. “Don’t pretend this is just about you. We both know it ain’t. And even if it was, I’d take down a hundred corps by your side.”

V’s expression crumpled as she considered his words, tears spilling past her lashes and streaking down the lines of her chrome. River was alarmed until a laugh wrung from her chest, and then he was just confused. She never openly wept, not once in front of him, and her laughter between the sniffling was nothing short of an anomaly. 

“You should be a fuckin’... motivational speaker. Not a… PI,” she managed. 

He joined her laughter then, shaking his head. “That was a rare moment of inspiration. Hope you don’t need me to talk you up again for a while. My next try might not hit the mark.” 

She threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. He could taste the salt of her tears and chemicals of running cosmetics, but returned her fervor all the same while thanking every existing power that be for the rare blessing of a silver tongue. It would have been beyond him, he would have been so far out of his depth with anyone else but for V, for her, he could be more and greater. 

"I love you so much,” she murmured between kisses, “and I’d be fuckin’ lost without you.” She stopped to rest the tip of her nose against his, glancing up as he opened his eye. It wrinkled with a grin.  
  
“I love you too, and I know.” 

She shoved him away and he let her, chuckling to himself as she stood. “I’m gonna grab a shower, get ready for bed. You in?”

“That even a question?” He rose to follow and they headed towards the shower, dropping articles of clothing along the way. The early hours of pre-dawn that followed were occupied with as much living as they could hold.


	20. Chapter 20

**19:30 05 Feb 2077**

  
  


River stood outside of the gates of Viktor’s clinic, rubbing his forehead. He could hear the doc puttering around inside, muttering his criticism of the boxing match playing on several screens. The last time he’d been to that clinic was while turning the city upside down looking for V and the ripper had been none too thrilled to be interrogated- he’d bristled at the implication that he knew anything about her whereabouts. River knew when he was in hostile territory and wasn’t sure it’d be any different this time around.

“Well? You gonna go in or wait until he notices you?” V asked over the holo. 

“Hey, this wasn’t my idea,” he reminded her.

“But you’re doin’ it for me,” she said gently, distractedly, Rogue’s voice filtering in over the line as she supplied directions to some derelict drive-in. V was taking the fixer queen out on a hot date at Johnny’s behest and River was already tense at the thought of her dropping another pseudoendotryzine. He’d tried to talk her out of it, but there was no changing her mind once it was set on something. The dead rockerboy’s fallout would land squarely in her lap like it always did- he would take and take until there was nothing left. He grunted and focused on her image in the holo. 

“For you,” he agreed, careful to specify, “ _ Only _ you- not Johnny.”

She glanced at him, winking, and he would’ve winked back if it looked any different than blinking. This was part of their agreement, covering any and all bases before she would give him the green light to tag along into Arasaka HQ. His optics weren’t tricked out with scramblers to conceal his identity and it was a bulletpoint on her list that was non-negotiable.

“I appreciate it more than you know, baby,” she said.

River’s jaw tightened at the term of endearment. She certainly knew where to hit him to knock the breath out of obstinance. Despite how surly Vik seemed, he was the best ripper in Watson and more importantly, V trusted him. He’d saved her life on top of installing all of her chrome, which was one glowing referral. “Call me when you’re done, alright?” 

“Yeah. Hey, if you get back home before me, key open the stash. I found a bulletproof vest that might be your size. Try it on and lemme know what you think.” 

“Will do. Keep me in the loop.” 

“Okay. Bye Riv.” She blew a kiss and before he could respond, the line dropped, leaving him to his own devices as the ripperdoc finally noticed him standing outside. Vik strolled over and pulled the gate open.

“Been waitin’ on you, detective,” he said, a divot in his cheek signifying minor irritation. River strode inside, taking in the ruddy lighting and contrast of neon Kiroshi advertisements.

“Sorry to keep you.”

“Eh. C’mon, take a load off.” Vik gestured at the exam chair and River climbed into it, running a hand over his head. It’d been a while since he’d gotten it buzzed and the new growth was downy, but V seemed to like it and there was no real reason to top off the cut since he’d left the force. She’d cooed when she noticed the gray at his temples a few days past and leaned across the table at Tom’s to stroke it with her fingertips. He remembered moments like that in perfect detail, how her lips turned up in an appraising smile and her bracelets clinked in his ear. Every time she turned those eyes on him, it opened the floodgates for all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings.

“You’re not much for docs either, huh?” Vik asked, lowering an interface. 

“Hm?” River jacked in when prompted, the thoughts of that morning at the diner now far away. 

“V wanders in here and forgets how to talk sometimes. Nice to see she’s not the only one allergic to that chair.” The doc was tapping away at diagnostics, scrolling through River’s soft. Outdated, most of it. No wonder V had been so keen to get him in there. His implants were few even for a cop’s standards- the readout listed mods for his optics and other miscellaneous odds and ends- trajectory and explosives, a stat mon, support for his prosthetic hand… but at least the contraceptive device was fresh.

“Ah, no, just got a lot goin’ on upstairs,” River explained. Vik studied him through dark lenses, huffing a sigh. 

“Well, we’re gonna give you a tune-up. Install that Kiroshi tech and see what we can do about some subdermal armor.” 

“Subdermal armor?”

“V’s house account’s got enough eddies that I could have you rollin’ out of here with an entirely new kit. In my professional opinion, subdermals are a better bet than most other ‘ware. She said you’d wanna keep it simple. That’s about as simple as it gets.” 

River considered his words, keeping the objective in mind. Arasaka wasn’t a smalltime gig and despite his cyberware cutting it in the past, that HQ wasn’t filled with common street gangs. They pioneered tech that could short his every circuit. If he was hoping to make it out on the other side, he’d have to square up. The staredown was about to get tense when he relented with a, “fine.” 

“I bet the two of you get along juuust swimmingly,” Vik murmured while fitting a tube of anesthetic into an injector. “Pig-headed, both, but V’s at least got as much chrome as a Caliburn. You, on the other hand, would be a nice little snack for Arasaka goons. Alright, gonna give you some anesthesia. Hits like a truck, so be ready for the KO.”   
  


Vik prompted him to roll up his sleeve and he did so, allowing the doc to apply the injector with a none-too-gentle slap. River didn’t flinch, but a muscle in his jaw worked. 

“Get that jacket off for me, hm?” Vik asked, turning to gather supplies. 

River huffed, wondering why he couldn’t have asked that favor before half of his body went unresponsive. He clumsily went about trying to remove the article of clothing as more muscles died and Vik hid a smirk behind a screen. River had barely managed to get it off when he lost motor control and sagged back into the chair.

“You weren’t kiddin’,” he slurred. 

“You’re a big guy, Ward. Big guys need lots of meds. Don’t want you to wake up in that chair while I’m pokin’ around in your eye.”  
  
River cursed, organic eye wincing shut as the room spun with streaks of neon. Vik wished him sweet dreams before everything went black.

  
  


**21:10**

  
  


River was aware of a gentle feminine voice when consciousness found him again. It was speaking in hushed tones to Vik but he couldn’t make out the syllables and any audio that his soft would’ve sorted out missed the relay while everything booted up. Diagnostics ran against the back of his eyelid and he struggled to understand the flashing text. His head was so  _ fuzzy _ . He caught a Kiroshi logo and a handful of Militech certs and dragged in a breath while taking inventory of his limbs.

Everything seemed to be present, pain-free, and he finally cracked open his eye to take a look around. He remembered the woman standing off to his left with bobbed blonde hair- Misty- and she noticed he was awake a beat later.

“Hey, River,” she said as she approached. “How are you feeling?” 

“Alright,” he said. It was the truth despite his abrupt departure from awareness. His vision was sharper, clearer, and he experimented with the new scanner by reading the label of an inhaler on the arm of the chair. He was on his second attempt to make sense of it when Misty began to speak and he gave up.

“Don’t mind Vik. He missed his nap today,” she joked. River smiled despite himself and she continued, “V’s on her way. She couldn’t get ahold of you and blew up my holo.” 

“Already?” he asked, incredulous, and Misty nodded. He supposed it was for the best. He’d walked to the clinic from V’s apartment to grab a bite on the way and wasn’t sure he was up to the task of hoofing it back as disoriented as he was.

“I don’t have all the details as to why, so you’ll have to ask her.” Misty moved out of the way as Vik tapped a few screens to life.

“Ready for the rundown?” he asked. He must’ve taken out his flagging spirits on the scalpel, because it seemed like he was now in a much more agreeable mood. His posture was easy, sunglasses missing, and his eyes crinkled at the corners with not so much age as good humor. The ripper must’ve been a monster in his heyday judging by the circumference of his biceps and the trophies glinting in his periphery.

“Ready,” River confirmed. 

Vik spun a monitor to face him and brought up his optics. 

“Top of the line Kiroshis with an external lens disruptor. That was V’s request, said she didn’t want the hounds on your trail.” 

“External lens disruptor,” River repeated with a heavy tongue, “Meanin’, I’m unclockable on surveillance, right?” 

“Yes and no. Your face’ll be scrambled, but your body won’t. You’ll still need to cover up anything identifying.” Vik brought up another window. “Subdermal armor, like we discussed. Threw in a few bells and whistles- grounding plating, fireproof coating.” 

River was impressed. “Thanks, doc.”

“Now, hang on. We’re not done,” the ripper said, bringing up another interface. “V performed some of her signature Bakker stop-gaps on electrical damage in your hand. I’d recognize her work anywhere. I ripped ‘em out and rewired, added shock coating and torque. Careful with your grip until you’re used to it.” He glanced at River over the edge of the screen and found him scowling. “You’ll be able to dent steel with those fingers, kid. Don’t look at me like that,” Vik gruffed.

_ Kid _ . Now that was something River hadn’t been called in a hot minute. His nerves were already strummed, so he stared down at his hand and watched his fingers curl, observing the ease of movement. 

“One more thing. Tweaked your biomon, shaved the age off those circuits. You’ll feel a decade younger in combat.”

River had wondered why nothing hurt when he woke up and guessed that explained it. “Thanks, Viktor,” he said. “Really. Nice work.”

“Don’t mention it. Just get V outta there in one piece and we’re square.”

“Good as done,” River replied. Even without the cyberware upgrades, even without jumping through all these hoops at her request, he’d have made sure that was the end result. Vik seemed to catch on and granted him a nod while pulling the monitors back up. 

“That inhaler there, you’ll wanna take one puff now and another in an hour to keep your optics copacetic.” 

River picked it up and gestured with it, “This ain’t gonna knock me back out?”

“Nah. I’m lookin’ to close up shop, wouldn’t want the chore of draggin’ you into the alley.”

A set of boots were descending the concrete stairs and River peered in the direction of Misty opening the gate for V. He was frustratingly nearsighted for the time being and could only make out her blurry silhouette against the city haze, but he’d know it anywhere. She was silver and gold and earth tones like an overcast desert sunset. The two women embraced and exchanged pleasantries before V walked further into the clinic with a cheerful, “Preem, the gang’s all here.” 

Vik stepped in her path and V pulled him in for a hug as well. The way the doc’s tattooed arms closed around her was almost paternal, giving River much-needed context to piece together the ripper’s motivations. He was looking out for her the same way all of her friends had, but his perception of V’s decisions and relationships was a shade less accepting than the rest. In a city like this one, River was glad that she had someone to second-guess her. They were discussing the upgrades and V’s expression bordered on annoyance when Vik finally began to laugh. He ruffled her hair and she bore it with as much patience as a cat doused in cold water.

“Stopgaps my ass,” she was telling him, “Those were top-tier repairs.” 

“Still not better than a complete rewiring,” Vik parried and she shrugged him off to saunter over to River. Any worries about her pills and their effects were put to rest as she came into focus. Her eyes were bright, devoid of dark circles, and she flashed her megawatt smile when she perched on Vik’s rolling stool.

“Hey there, cowboy. Rustled up some nice tech, did ya?” she asked. Poor River looked like he’d fused to the chair, boneless and groggy, but his organic eye tracked her movements just fine when she leaned in to touch his forearm.

“You’re in a good mood,” he observed, placing a meaty paw over her hand.

Her corneas lit up after he authorized a scan. An adorable little crease appeared between her eyebrows almost instantly and she whipped her head towards the ripperdoc. The light of her optics trailing in his vision prompted him to blink a few times. “Christ, Vik, did you need to put him that far under?” 

Vik shrugged evenly. “Standard dose for his size.”

“Can he even walk?” she asked.

“I’m right here-” River protested, wanting to answer for himself, but she shushed him with a squeeze.

“He’ll be alright in a few minutes,” the ripper responded, “with any luck, it’ll wear off entirely within the hour.”

V sighed heavily, turning back. “Did you get mouthy or somethin’?”

“Your man was a model patient,” Viktor called from across the room. He was tidying up and shutting off computers, discarding a clear bag of blood-saturated gauze in a biohazard bin.

River nodded his agreement and V continued to scan, mumbling her findings beneath her breath. He liked how she bent her body towards him and the way it dipped the neckline of her shirt to expose considerable cleavage. Tattoos and freckles divided and dotted the soft bronze of her skin and she’d worn a delicate chain of rose gold around her neck. The pendant was lost somewhere between her breasts and he couldn’t help but look for it. She hadn’t noticed him gawking yet but she was sure to pick up on any spikes in his respiration, so he swallowed and forced his eyes away. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to check her out in front of an audience. The meds were wearing off frustratingly slow, making him distractible and scattered.

“Aces,” V summarized at length and collected his coat. “Let’s get you home, huh? Thank fuck I took the Javelina.” When she rose, she grabbed his hand to help him to his feet. It felt like he had more than two of them- or  _ less _ when he swayed upright and tried to regain his balance. V tucked her shoulder beneath his underarm and locked her grip at his side in the leather straps of his holster. She grunted that he felt heavier than before, but supported the extra weight regardless and eased him past Vik with an expression of thanks.

“Anytime, V,” he said, then shouted after River. “The inhaler, don’t forget about it.” 

“I won’t,” River called back, letting V guide him up the stairs. The alley was vacant except for a few bodies huddled around a barrel fire and they carefully sidestepped and crossed the street towards where she’d parked. She opened the door and lowered him into the passenger’s side.

“This reminds me of the Red Queen’s Race,” she puffed, moving to assist with his seatbelt. She smelled incredible and the brush of her body against his was distracting. “Never thought I’d be on the other side of that equation.” He caught a glimpse of her effort-reddened cheeks as she craned her head to look at him and that was all the encouragement he needed to reach out and tug her into his lap.

“Ouch,” she hissed. “Your grip.” 

His regret was immediate and he jerked his chrome hand back from her hip like he’d been burned. “Shit. I’m sorry, V. Doc even warned me-”

“I’d be surprised if you had all your wits about you, sedated like you were,” V interrupted his self-depreciation by framing his face with her cool hands. The way she looked at him, all that affection and warmth, nearly laid him out. He felt all at once in awe and lucky and hopeful for the future, but those feelings had always been there beneath layers of world-weariness that blunted his ability to express them. He would have to be careful if he wanted to avoid making a fool of himself.

“Want me to kiss it better?” he offered. So much for not looking foolish. His question came out in a gravelly jumble. V traced a crease in his cheek exaggerated by his lopsided smile. Ambience from the streetlights above haloed her silver hair in white and threw a soft haze over his optics so that every line and glint of gold glittered. Damn, but she was beautiful. 

“You’re too suggestible right now,” she answered gently. “Maybe later.” She reached down and pried the inhaler out of his hand, lining it up with his mouth and coaching a breath. It was lucky she was there or he’d have forgotten all about it.

“Valerie,” he said, blowing the remnants of the meds away from her face, “Did you mean what you said back at Joss’, about you not bein’ the wifey type?”

She laughed. “We’re not gonna talk about this right now.” Before she could move to clamber into the driver’s side, he put his organic hand on her wrist to stop her. She looked down at him and quickly away when she noticed his lips were parted. 

He treated her to his best beseeching stare. “What’s the worst that can happen, that I won’t remember what you say?”

Her glance was narrow and quick. Calculating, but soft. She could at least grant him clarification. “If I’m rememberin’ right, what I did was ask Joss if I really seemed like the wifey type. Now…” She unwound herself from his arm and shut the door, situating herself behind the steering wheel. “Ask again when you’re not loopy.”  _ Or maybe after we make it out of Arasaka alive _ . Rogue was already putting out feelers and pulling strings according to Johnny. Shit was getting real, real fast.

The Javelina purred to life and River watched her throw it into gear and ease on the gas. She was blushing fiercely and wet her lips before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It wasn’t easy to throw her off her game and it was rare to catch her with her guard down. He’d hit both marks with a single indirect query, which made him feel good about his odds. 

“So Johnny’s date didn’t go too well, huh?” he asked, changing the subject to something she wasn’t likely to dodge.

V gave a noncommittal tilt of her head. “I thought it went fine, but somethin’ spooked Rogue’n she took off.” 

“So Johnny gave you back the wheel, just like that?”

“Just like that,” she confirmed with a smile. “He took one of those little blue pills and delta’d.” 

River was nodding his consideration at the passing skyline. “Maybe he’s not such a jackass after all.”

V grinned in his direction, downshifting. “That how you really feel?”

“I dunno how to feel about him,” he said honestly. “Hard to read somebody you can’t interrogate.”

Her response was a thoughtful hum. They rode in relative silence back to H11, punctuated only by V’s occasional ideas for dinner. All River wanted was to get into something comfortable and pass out on the first horizontal surface and told her as much, earning himself a comforting touch. The drive had been a blur and he looked out the window to find that they were already in the parking garage. 

V got out of the car and he followed, refusing her attempts to help. “I got it,” he insisted, bracing himself against the Javelina and finding his feet. She mimed applause.

“Think you can make it to the elevator?” she teased. 

He shot her a sour look. “I don’t remember giving you this much shit when you shorted out.”

“I live to please,” came her response as she called the lift. He caught up and leaned on a forearm beside her head, waiting for her to turn around. His head was clearer now, though his body hadn’t quite caught up, and V angled her body towards him. She busied herself by straightening a wrinkle in his shirt, murmuring, “Thank you for doin’ that.” 

“It was overdue,” he said, his authentic take on the situation. Night City was ever-evolving, each day reaching a new fever pitch, and he hadn’t been diligent about keeping pace. There had been too much on his plate for so little payoff and recently, V had been teaching him how to breathe. She was good at teasing moments out of the grind to enjoy- moments like this one.

“How’re you feelin’?” she asked. She was still staring at the fabric, eyes barely visible through the fall of her lashes.

“Like a million eddies.”

“What a bargain. Didn’t cost nearly that much.” She looked up when he snorted, grinning, and allowed him to duck his head and brush a kiss against the corner of her mouth. The elevator dinged a second later, doors sliding open at her back. “Let’s get you to bed.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot plot plot! Also, porn
> 
> Three or four chapters left. Better buckle up!

**04:07 11 Feb 2077**

  
  


V couldn’t think. She couldn’t formulate any more order to the chaos spread out on the bed in front of her, printouts and photos tucked around her bare legs. A cigarette burned limp in her fingers and she brought it to her lips for a drag. Hours had passed since she sat down and began to comb over the details of the heist and River wasn’t there to tell her to put it away, to go to bed, that everything was checked a dozen times over. This was the fourth night in the past week that his investigative work warranted a prolonged stakeout and there must’ve been a hell of a lot of activity to parse through, because her normally chatty agent only dinged with the occasional police scanner notification.

She rubbed an eye with the knuckle of her thumb and reached for it, firing off a quick text.

>> I’m still up. Everything ok?

It barely had time to send before her holo lit up with an incoming call. She connected the line, smiling faintly. “Mad, aren’t ya?”

“You should have been asleep hours ago. You’re goin’ on day two,” River chided. His expression was gentle, though; he knew how heavily Rogue’s plan was weighing on her. It was exactly the kind of wing and a prayer scheme that she’d become leery of since her first tangle with the corp. They’d discussed it over breakfasts, on car rides, during commercial breaks, between bites and in the early hours of the morning when sleep evaded them both- but there was no getting around it. V’s suggestions had been shot down by the fixer queen because they incorporated a broader network and the op would need to stay small. She understood, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Neither of them did.

“Yeah, I’m ‘bout to turn in,” V told him, dashing out her cig. “Just wanted to make sure everything’s good on your end.”

“For the most part. Gonna stick around a few hours yet.” 

River was tight-lipped over the holo when it came to work, so she didn’t pry. Instead, she said, “wake me up when you get home. Got a thing for Dino that’s been growin’ stale-”

“And what if I think you could use some extra winks?” he asked. 

“Then we won’t have time to say good mornin’ before I leave for my gig,” was her sly answer. They exchanged a look down the holo. With his working late and her heading out early, that sunsoaked hour when their schedules intersected had become the anchor to their recent days. His image in the holo froze and she tapped her agent to make sure the line was still connected. “River?”

“I’m here. Just, uh, don’t got a response.”

“Glad our priorities are in the same place,” V teased, earning herself a chuckle.

“I’ll take the long way home,” River resolved. “Snag you a coffee, shower off… that’ll buy you half an hour more.”

“Deal.”

“Now, off to bed, right?”

V blew a few strands of hair out of her face from where it’d escaped from a sloppy knot. “Yeah, alright. G’night, River.”

“Sleep well, babe.”

The line dropped and she began to collect her scattered papers when the agent pinged again. This time, it was from an unknown number. She set the stack of documents on the floor and crossed her legs to read the incoming message. 

> V. I need your help. 

Her eyes hovered on the agent, flicking to the intel before refocusing. Sleep would prove difficult her if she ignored this mystery client.  _ Gonna need a name and sitrep _ , she texted back. She had a hunch who it was behind that blocked extension. 

Her curiosity overrode caution as she connected the holo on the first ring. Takemura’s image appeared in the corner of her optics and she couldn’t help but grin. It had been weeks since he’d called her that cab in city center after meeting Hanako and she’d been under the impression that was that- friendship concluded. His variable was scribbled all over the intel she’d been fretting over. Having worked in proximity for some time, she’d clocked his fancy Arasaka chrome and knew exactly what sort of hardware she’d be up against if they found themselves on opposite sides of the same conflict. It’d all be online now that he’d gotten his old job back and that made him a high priority threat. 

“Goro! How the hell are ya?” Her voice sounded delighted to her own ears, but she didn’t care. “Are you callin’ in that crowbar?” Maybe he’d finally come to his senses and was looking to get sprung from Arasaka.

His smile was faint, but it was there. “I am well. We need to speak in person.” 

“Can’t right now, I’m runnin’ on empty. We can grab lunch?” It shouldn’t be too difficult to pencil in a bite to eat. 

“The place with the stout?” he asked. Nice tactic, relying on her memory instead of dropping sensitive information. 

“Noon,” she supplied. With a nod, he disconnected. 

V swung her legs off of the mattress and padded over to the bathroom, head full of noise as she went about the task of brushing her teeth. She’d never collected on Hellman’s whereabouts and, knowing Takemura, he had an eye on the engineer at all times. It was still possible that she’d need him after accessing Mikoshi to undo whatever damage the chip had done. The strokes of her toothbrush slowed and stopped when she had an idea.

Hellman. Of _ course _ .

Toothbrush still in her cheek, she fired off a text to Panam. 

>> Might need you and the ‘caldos after all. Tell you more tomorrow.

Rogue could get fucked; she’d just thought of a foolproof way to remove both Takemura and Hellman from the equation with zero bloodshed. She just had to make sure that what he needed aligned with her plans. V spit out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth, splashing a handful of water over her face.

Her image in the mirror stared back at her, artificial light catching on the droplets in her cyberware. The dark circles were stark beneath her strange eyes and her cheeks looked hollow behind the piercings in her dimples. Sometimes her reflection still threw her off balance. Before Night City, before edgerunning, she’d had waist length brown hair and the same dark hazel eyes as her dad. Her cheeks had been fuller, too, but she wasn’t sure what to blame her thinning face on: aging, irregular meals, or the battle being fought in her cortex. She tugged at the drawstring of her sweatshirt to get a glimpse of the blackout tattoos that covered all of her artwork from the Bakkers. It had been a clean slate, one of the first things she did after crossing the border with Jackie.

What a year it had been. She’d gained and lost and grown in the harsh climate of necessity. The woman in the mirror was nigh unrecognizable. 

“Rogue ain’t gonna like this,” Johnny said over her shoulder. She nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Christ,” she murmured, turning to face him. “Don’t suppose I could code a bell onto you.”

He smirked and gestured to the corner of his mouth. “Got somethin’.”

“Thanks.” She thumbed the toothpaste away. “Listen, I gotta get some sleep. Can this wait?” 

“You’ve talked to River, your corpo dog, and Panam- but don’t have time for me?” 

“We talked earlier,” she protested, waving for him to follow her to bed. She’d already agreed to do a gig with Kerry and the old crew for Johnny, establishing that this was the last red pill she was going to take. As she slid between the sheets, Johnny perched on the edge of the mattress. 

“Just wanted to let you know if things get too dicey in Arasaka, I’m here for ya. Scooch, drop a pill, and lemme handle it.” 

“One last hurrah with Rogue?” V asked, sighing. Being horizontal was taking the pressure off of her aching joints. She hadn’t realized just how long she’d been slouching over the tangible evidence of the plan. 

“One last,” he confirmed. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for Ward, too.”

“Good to know,” she said. She piled pillows beneath her neck so that she could look at him without strain. He’d been flickering in and out of her periphery all night, hovering during dinner to express his preference for the bell peppers in her curry and sticking around to brainstorm afterwards. His tolerance for hyperfixation was higher than River’s, or maybe Johnny didn’t care as much if she worried herself sick. “Johnny?”

"Hm?” He glanced aside and down at her, removing his aviators. 

She tugged a blanket up around her shoulders. “What’s gonna happen to you when you go with Alt?” 

“You’ve been thinkin’ about that a lot lately. Wondered when you’d actually ask.” 

“So?” she prompted him to continue. 

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Your guess is good as mine, V.”

“You’re gonna become a pain-in-the-ass line of zeros and ones in something much, much bigger.” 

Johnny shrugged, looking wistful. Distant. “Who knows.” 

“I hope you tear down the blackwall and find me,” V managed around a yawn. Her eyes were heavy, so she closed them. “Think I’m gonna miss you.” 

He glanced down at her. The rise and fall of her shoulders was becoming steady, evening out as the seconds passed. When he was sure she was asleep, he reached a hand down and mimed settling it over one of hers. “I’ll miss you too, kid.”

**09:15**

V was lost in a dream, running through shrinking corridors. Automated lights flickered to life when she darted past and there were hundreds of brightly lit passages to indicate where she’d already been. A door slammed as she rounded another corner and forced her to divert to a different portion of the maze. She had the feeling that she was being pursued by some nameless, faceless entity and her lungs burned from exertion keeping it off her heels. This had been going on for hours. 

“V,” a familiar masculine voice said in her ear. She felt warmth and pressure and beams of sunlight hitting her body at an angle. “Hey, Valerie.” 

Her lungs expanded, cold corridors melting away into soft sheets. “Mmh,” she managed, stretching her upper body. Weight on her midsection prevented the movement from carrying into her legs. There was a large, calloused hand gripping her thigh and the final vestiges of the dream dropped away when a thumb rubbed scratchy circles into her skin.  _ River. _

V opened her eyes with a bleary, “howdy, cowboy.” She smelled coffee outside of her immediate olfactory register, which was currently running hot with the scent of the man in her bed. He’d just showered and his skin was still damp- fragrant and herbal. River smiled down at her, pushing the silver curtain of hair out of her vision, and pressed a kiss to one of her cheekbones. 

“Mornin’,” he murmured with a scratch of stubble. She turned her head to catch him in a kiss, curling a leg around his hips. He’d left his towel somewhere and she could feel his erection against her stomach where it rode up her sweater. His explanation when they broke apart was sheepish. “You were sleepin’ ass up.” 

She laughed into his neck and inhaled through her mouth so that she could taste him. “So you flipped me over?”

“Uh huh.” He ghosted his lips across her chest and crawled down her body, adjusting the leg around him to drape over his shoulder. The cloth shorts she’d worn to bed were loose enough to be nudged aside and he did so, nipping her inner thigh affectionately. He was on his way to paying back her favor from the previous morning, but his hardness had given her more immediate ideas. Ignoring her attempts at tugging him back up, he remained firmly planted between her legs and the damp heat of his breath against her core was nothing short of agonizing. 

River liked to trace the adjacent patterns of ink with his tongue as they were intricate and small- entirely different from the landscape of dark tattoos on her upper body. Beneath her clothes, there remained more to explore that evaded everyday notice, frontiers unmapped despite their regular trysts. He kissed a whorl of cursive and hummed into the adductor muscle in the crook of where her thigh met pelvis. She was already slick against his cheek and her natural, faintly sweet smell drummed up all sorts of memories that had him straining with need. 

It could wait, he thought, bowing his lower lip to suction around her clit. She inhaled sharply at the brief graze of incisors. He knew exactly what she liked, anticipating a squirm before it started, and was able to lock her against him with his chrome hand at her hip. “Nope,” he murmured and gave her a long, thorough lick. She tasted every bit as good as she smelled.

He hazarded a glance up at her face and slipped a finger against the spot where she was beginning to ache. Her pale eyes were barely visible through heavy lids and dark lashes, but there was heat in them that echoed the flush of blood to her cheeks. He loved seeing her like that, unbridled focus on what he was doing to her body, fraying until threadbare. She broke eye contact, throwing a forearm over her eyes as another finger joined the first. Her breathy curse made the blood thrum in his ears.

V writhed and bucked as he laved at her with his tongue, the pressure of her short nails sharp on the back of his neck. Muscles in her thighs trembled in time with each pump. “Just… fuck me, already,” she demanded. He was tempted to take the order as a suggestion, but she locked her ankles and squeezed to get his attention. Silky hair had draped over a portion of her face and she chewed her lip while she rolled a nipple coyly between her fingers. Her sweater was pushed up over her breasts and sunlight streaked her dusky skin with stripes of gold. The sight alone would have been convincing enough for him, but she held his gaze to purr a ‘ _ please _ ’ and he was done for. He could  _ feel  _ the sense leave him when she played at being demure. 

She intently watched him withdraw his fingers and suck them clean. Her pupils were huge, irises rings of shining white that stood out in organic corneas, and she let her leg fall further to the side to make room for River’s midsection. She was tracking the ripple of movement in his abdomen and admired the way his arms wired when he tugged her behind the knees. He groaned in anticipation; she was primed to the point of dripping. Sitting back on his heels, he lined up and pulled her hips into his to sink fully inside. The angle wrung a soft gasp from V. 

They moved together in the morning sun, all light-saturated skin and golden edges, and River finally dropped to his forearms to kiss the line of chrome glittering up her neck. She savored the feeling of being ground into the mattress with deliberate, rough strokes. The force contrasted with near-reverence in how his lips dusted her throat and jaw. Her mainline’s particular brand of fucking was sweet and needy- no pretense, defenseless. He paused to groan in her ear and heat shot directly to where their bodies were joined: the tempo was building and with it, delicious tension. 

She put her hands over where he held her by the hips and squeezed, encouraging him to tighten his grip. Hard metal bit when he dialed up the pressure but V was past the point of perceiving pain, enjoying how the twinge kept her rooted. Despite the litany of thoughts pursuing her from the night before, her head remained mercifully clear. She was focused only on the jarring of her teeth and raw power dormant behind this man’s typically gentle mannerisms. Each movement knocked a little moan loose from her chest and she was beginning to brace for a rapidly approaching release that would find her tense and strumming.

He dropped his grip to brace himself on a forearm while the other threaded into the hair at the back of her neck and  _ wrenched _ . His kiss was hard, sloppy, and his rhythm stuttered as each thrust was met with tightening muscles. Her orgasm struck full force and though she tried to turn her head away into the pillows, he caught her chin and held her gaze throughout- even when her eyes lost focus and lashes fluttered. The sight was enough that he bottomed out and came hard while flush against her hips. 

He sagged in increments, distributing his weight across elbows and knees, when she reached up to pull him closer. There was little resistance, River tucking his body into her side in a way that wouldn’t crush hers. V nestled her nose alongside his and the two simply shared breath as they came down from the high of their morning coupling. 

Affection surged through her while she studied his face, gaze falling to his parted lips and drowsy eye. She wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and ignore the world beyond the front door. He knew what she was feeling, perceiving reluctance in the crease of her brow, and sighed into her cheek. He punctuated the nonverbal statement with a kiss. As much as her raw expression mirrored the ache in his chest, he didn’t want her to carry that longing into work where it could be distracting.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” he promised. “Long as you’re here before sundown.”

“I’ll try,” she responded, returning his kiss with one of her own, just a brush at the corner of his mouth. She dragged herself out of bed and to the shower to prepare for the day ahead.

  
  


**11:58**

  
  


V scrolled her surroundings at the deli where she was supposed to meet Takemura. A frosty stout remained untouched beside her right hand. She was too focused to mind the temptation of a hearty beer, parsing data and running NCPD file searches against the faces that passed. There was no Arasaka presence here beyond a few low-level employees stimmed out of their minds on performance enhancers. 

“Cig might help,” Johnny supplied as he appeared across the table. 

She made a distracted noise, tapping her pockets. “Fresh out.” 

He nodded and followed her gaze to Takemura’s figure cutting around the edge of a building. 

“He looks tense,” Johnny said, and V had to agree: the line of his shoulders was stiff and he moved with purpose, spotting her a moment later. Some of his uptight demeanor eased when he flashed a close-lipped smile.

“V,” he greeted her, sliding into the seat Johnny had occupied, “It is so good to see you.” 

“Damn, Goro. Lookin’ fresh,” she replied, cocking a finger gun in his direction. The motion was halfhearted and he noted that her typically billowing sails were windless. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked. 

She propped her aviators on the top of her head, pushing back her loose hair. V was dressed in nondescript black with her favorite jacket of gray, buttery leather and scraped up a smile as she took her first sip of the stout. “Nah,” she responded. “Just in the zone.” 

Takemura put his elbows on the table, folding his hands. She’d chosen a spot where they were unlikely to be overheard. Excellent.

“Yorinobu is missing,” he said. 

Her eyes lit on him. Their undivided focus was unnerving, heavy. “So the screamsheets say.” She didn’t buy that he’d just dropped off the radar, not with all the resources at corp disposal. 

“Ah, you think I have something to do with it,” he caught on.

“If not you, someone else.” She sniffed, looking away.

“You are right.”

That got her attention and she glanced at him, face full of questions. “Goro?” she asked. “What did you do?” It was entirely unlike him to swim upstream- his reasons must be good, and numerous.

“I heard a rumor that there exists an engram of Saburo. That the plan was to install it in a new body, one that was... genetically compatible.”

V nearly choked on her beer. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” Arasaka was next-level evil, but this was breaching an entirely new height. “So, what, he’s in your version of... witness protection, or somethin’? D’you find any evidence? Can't say it's like the Goro I know to act without certainty. Especially on the side of someone who murdered your choom."

"The implications were worrying enough that I had to investigate. I found supporting intelligence in Mikoshi servers." It was clear that this was a dilemma weighing heavily on Takemura, because his words were chosen carefully and seemed to come at great personal cost. He realized that he was clenching his hands together and tucked them beneath his chin. 

"Holy fuckin' balls, V," Johnny muttered at her side. She agreed wholeheartedly, leaning forward over the table.

“Where is Yorinobu?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“Safe, for now. Taken out of the equation.”

“So what’s the problem?”

His answer came on the other side of a pregnant pause. “I need that engram, and all copies, destroyed.” 

“ _ What _ ?” Her teeth clipped on the last syllable and she focused all of her available resources on studying the Araska muscle, performing an inconspicuous scan that didn’t engage her indicator lights. His chrome was fully functional and recently maintained. Since they’d last spoken, he’d gotten an upgrade on his cyberdeck and he was running soft she didn’t recognize- pilot programs, she guessed. Araska special. It struck her that she was sitting across the table from a well-oiled killing machine, more akin to a human-shaped panzer than the down-and-out fugitive she’d breached the parade with.  _ Danger _ , her lizard brain whispered- or maybe it was Johnny. “Somethin’ ain’t addin’ up, Goro. Why can’t you do it yourself?” 

He let go of his final piece of information. “If Saburo cannot be located, Hanako-sama is the secondary host.” 

V felt sick. “This is depraved shit, even by Arasaka standards.”

“Sounds like a trap,” Johnny added. V dropped her gaze to her beer and distanced herself from her body, her desire to fidget. It was damned hard to filter her own thoughts and opinions from those of the engram in her head.

Takemura unfolded his hands and reached out to rest one across her knuckles. “This is the crowbar,” he said solemnly. “There is no honor in killing kin. Saburo has lost himself.”

V stared at him, jaw tight after a long moment of consideration. Even on the off chance that Takemura could lie to her face for reasons she couldn’t fathom, her goals aligned nicely with his request. She could use this to her advantage as long as she played it safe and kept her cards close. In the event that it wasn’t some sort of murky ploy, they’d both emerge victorious. 

“I need somethin’ from you first. Hellman.”

“When and where?” Takemura asked. “I will do it, but it will have to be soon. We are running out of time.” 

V stood, transferring eddies to pay for her barely touched stout, and gave him a quick once-over as she took back her hand. “I’ll send you a geoloc in forty-eight hours. After you’ve got the package delivered, we can discuss how you might be able to crack open a way into HQ for me.” The second part was a cautious lie, a formulation that would never come to fruition if things shook out the way she intended. Keeping Takemura at arm’s length while she worked was the best way to ensure there would be no surprises. 

“Thank you, V,” Goro said, rising. She clasped his shoulder before breaking eye contact and turning away. 

V left him standing at the deli and wove through the mill of bodies towards where she’d parked her bike on the upper level. This is where Panam and the Aldecaldos would come in, so she brought up her contacts and dialed her friend.

When the holo connected and Panam greeted her with a bright ‘hello’, she asked for her to patch Saul in as a third party and waited until his image appeared to continue.

“I need your help,” she told them both. “Think you could babysit two Arasaka suits for me?”


End file.
